


Jailbirds

by lilaccoffee



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, And Ziam sex, Asexual Character, Basically they've all done some illegal shit and are trying to correct their wrongs, Blow Jobs, Brief Zarry, Community Service AU, Crimes & Criminals, Harry is asexual but it's a confusing time for him and there's Larry sex, Have I got it all?, I probably missed some stuff, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied Niall/girl sex but I didn't write it, Late Night Conversations, Light Bondage, Multi, Niall is a bit of a sociopath, OT5 Friendship, Okay let's begin this tagging shit show, Pining, Rimming, Smoking, There's a shit ton of sex and a shit ton of swearing, enjoy, handjobs, i think that's all, just a bit of kissing, oh oh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-12 21:48:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 34,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4495896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilaccoffee/pseuds/lilaccoffee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Where Louis is an unlikely criminal sentenced to community service at London's biggest homeless shelter. There, he becomes friends with four guys nothing like him at all. He has six months to change his life, his attitude, and, unexpectedly, six months to fall in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blue_chocolate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_chocolate/gifts).



> Hi guys! This fic is very dear to me so I hope you like it. It was a pleasure to write it. 
> 
> There will be FIVE parts in total. I'm going to be uploading at random. 
> 
> For Veronica because she's my fav and she encouraged me and got pumped about this. Also, she writes good stuff, you should go read her fics. 
> 
> I edited this but there are probably still a shit tone of mistakes. I will go through and fix them eventually.

Louis always thought that if he were to go to jail, it would be for something worth it, like stealing a flat screen TV or robbing a bank. He used to make jokes about it with his sisters, laughing about the biggest crooks in England and petty left. He just never planned on getting caught for the same thing he used to poke fun at.   
Really, it was a complete accident. A case of wrong place, wrong time. He saw the stacks of twenties on the counter, and it was pretty impossible to not take them; not when they were staring him right in the face. He just didn’t expect to get caught. Community service also wasn’t high on his list, either, but shit happened and here he is, serving up a spoonful of chili to a homeless guy that smells like death. The whole shelter smells that way, really.   
“Enjoy.” Louis forces a smile as he passes the man his plate, breathing out of his mouth to resist the urge to gag.   
The man stares at Louis for a second, as if he’s sizing him up, before he turns and goes to his seat in the back of the shelter. Louis sticks his tongue out at him, making a face behind his back. As if a dirty, bearded homeless man has anything on him.  
“Good afternoon, Agnes,” Louis says to the older woman in front of him. He can be nice when he wants to, it’s just that most of the time he finds no reason to be.   
“Good afternoon,” she replies. Agnes holds out her plate for lunch, and Louis nicely scoops a heap of chili for her. She’s his favourite, with her red glasses on a chain and white curly hair and her positive attitude.   
He smiles at her. “Have a good day, Agnes.”   
“You too,” she returns.   
He drops the ladle back into the pot and takes a step back. There’s still at least twenty people waiting for their food, but Louis has decided that it’s time for his break. He nudges Jaime, one of the guys working the food distribution with him, who rolls his eyes and reaches for the ladle. He’s used to this; Louis often goes for breaks that take excessive amounts of time to complete.  
The summer heat beats down on Louis’ back as he exits the building. He turns past a neatly stacked row of crates as he flicks the cap on his water bottle open and takes a drink. Secretly, it’s rum, but no one has to know that. Especially not his parole officer.   
He rounds the corner and knocks right into someone. A box goes flying and Louis’ bottle of rum crashes to the ground and spills. He stumbles back and grabs the wall, scraping his palm on the brick.   
“Ow!” He snaps. “Watch where you’re fucking going.”   
“Shit, I’m sorry!” There’s hands patting at his shoulder, and Louis angrily shoves the guy who knocked him off of him.   
“Don’t touch me.” He takes a moment to glare at the guy in front of him. He has a wide smile, blue eyes, and brown hair with blond highlights in his fringe. He seems to be an inch or so taller than Louis is, and he squares his shoulders to come across as bigger and intimidate the guy.   
“Niall Horan,” he says, sticking out his hand. Louis glances down at his hand and then back at his face before looking down again. With a moment’s thought, reaches out and shakes it.   
“Louis Tomlinson,” he replies. His arm drops back down to his side and he rocks on his heels awkwardly as he looks at this Niall guy. He looks so excited, and Louis can imagine a tail wagging behind him if he were a dog. He has the face for it; this puppy look with his big eyes and chubby cheeks.   
“We should have lunch together,” Niall suggests. Then he seems to clue in that he’s coming along a little too strong and tries to fix it. “You know, if you want to. You seem cool, and I don’t know many cool people. Well, there was John Davis in my geography class back in high school. He was pretty cool. Anyway, lunch?”  
As awkward as he is, he doesn’t make things worse. Louis finds himself laughing at this guy that he just met who, as you might guess, pretty cool.   
“I like you,” Louis says. “I accept your offer; we’ll have lunch together.”  
Niall smiles, teeth and all. “Great.”  
“I’ll meet you in the mess hall. Oh, and you owe me a drink,” Louis says, referring to the mess of spilt rum on the pavement.  
Niall positively cackles, and Louis’ eyes widen in surprise. He knows that he’s generally a pretty funny person, but he wasn’t even attempting to make a joke.   
“Oh,” he mumbles, fighting back his surprised giggles.   
“How about this,” Niall says. “I’ll take you out for a drink tonight if you promise to have lunch with me every day.”  
“You asking me on a date?” Louis arches an eyebrow.   
“Nah, mate, I don’t swing that way,” Niall answers. “Though, if it makes you feel better about yourself, you can call it a date and boost your ego. We criminals have low self-esteem, didn’t you know?”   
“I’m good.” Louis chuckles, holding his hands out palms up. “I’ll see you at lunch then?”   
“I guess so.” Niall smiles. Louis easily returns it, and he heads back to the mess hall with a grin still plastered on his face.   
…   
“Louis! Over here!”   
Louis spins around in the direction of Niall’s voice. He balances his tray in one hand and waves to him with the other as he weaves through the hoard of people. Between the staff, homeless people, and the weakest criminals of the weak, this place really is too crowded.   
Louis trips over his own shoe lace and slams his tray down on Niall’s lunch table in his desperate attempt to gain balance. Niall’s still laughing even as he collects himself and sits down, and Louis smacks him across the shoulder.   
“You sure are clumsy today,” Niall snickers.   
“Oh, shut up,” Louis huffs. “That first time was your fault, anyway.”   
Niall just laughs harder. “You walked into me, not the other way around.”  
“No.” Louis fixes him a playful glare.   
“Okay, mate. Whatever you say.” Niall pats him on the shoulder, lips quivering as he attempts to hold in his grin.   
Louis raises a spoonful of chili to his mouth and tries not to throw up. The thing with cooking for so many people that are desperate enough to eat anything served means the kitchen staff sometimes lose sight of what tastes good and just focus on how fast something can be prepared. Whatever happened to quality over quantity is beyond him.   
“What are you in for?” Louis asks as he brings his spoon up to his mouth for another assault on his taste buds.   
“Eh, I got caught trying to catfish a girl. I was trying to get money, but her friend caught on before she could send me any and here I am,” Niall says.  
“Jesus,” Louis mutters.   
Niall shrugs. “No big deal, really. It’s only two hundred hours.”  
Louis’ lips part, but Niall cuts him off.   
“What about you?” He asks. “I’m sure your story isn’t as exciting as mine.”   
Louis snorts. “It really isn’t. It was a complete accident, you know?”  
Niall rolls his eyes. “Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s not an accident. You meant to do it, or else it wouldn’t have happened.”   
“I guess so.” Louis eyebrows knit together. “Do you want to hear my story or not?”   
“Go for it,” Niall replies, a genuine smiling spreading across his face. Louis frowns at his odd reaction, but he shakes it off as tiredness or something.   
“I attempted to steal a good two hundred pounds from the local convenience store,” Louis tells him. “I got caught, though.”  
Niall snorts, though it sounds more like too much air than anything else. “Obviously, or else you wouldn’t be in here. How long did you get?”  
“Same as you, two hundred hours,” Louis replies.  
“How many have you done so far?” Niall asks.   
“Thirty,” Louis says, as if accomplishing under a fourth of his hours is anything to be overly proud of.   
“Me too!” Niall says. “June twelfth was your first day, right?”  
Louis hesitates, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Yeah. You started that day, too?”   
“Mmhmm.” Niall nods. “How have I not seen you before? I mean, I know I’m on truck deliveries and judging by the stain on your pants you’re on kitchen, but still.”  
Louis chuckles. “Dare I say it, but you’re pretty cool. It would have been even cooler if I had met you earlier, but you’re taking me for a drink tonight, so it’s all good.”  
“How could I forget?” Niall grins. He pulls a pen from his bag and sets it on top of a napkin before sliding them to Louis. “Here, write your address and cell number. I’ll pick you up at nine, and then we’ll get smashed.”   
“I like the way that sounds.”   
…

Louis’ already drunk on beer when Niall slides a shot of tequila in front of him. He turns to Niall, who is smirking at him with his own glass held up to his lips. A wicked smile spreads across Louis’ face, and he tilts his head back as he downs the drink in one easy gulp.   
“Another,” Niall says to the guy behind the bar, punctuated by a bang of his fist on the counter.   
Louis giggles and downs another shot. Niall orders another round, and Louis drinks without a second thought. He enjoys getting drunk, apart from the killer hangover he always feels the next day. Becoming fuzzy, forgetting about life’s problems—yeah, that was the good stuff he enjoyed.   
“Mate, watch this,” Niall says, snapping his fingers in front of Louis’ face to get his attention.   
He stands up on the bar stool on shaky legs, almost falling over. Louis lets out a loud laugh. He feels so light, so free. Honestly, he hasn’t been this drunk in a long time and he’s missed not needing to think about things, especially with all that’s happened to him in the last year.   
Niall turns around and places a finger over his lips, signalling for Louis to be quiet. Louis slaps his hand over his mouth to muffle his laughter, and Niall’s lips are quivering as he tries to hold his in.   
He reaches out to tap a girl on the shoulder. When she turns around, Niall gives her shoulder a shove, and she goes sprawling to the ground. Quickly, Niall rushes to sit back down at the bar, burying his face in his arm.   
“Hey, watch it!” The girl yells, sticking both of her middle fingers up at him. Her drink is spilled all over her dress, and the glass is shattered on the floor.   
Niall’s face is red from laughter. Beside him, Louis is in momentary shock, but then he dissolves into laughter.   
“Niall! You’re not supposed to push people,” he playfully scolds.   
“I thought it was funny,” Niall argues.   
“It was,” Louis agrees. He salutes him and then proceeds to stick his foot out to trip the guy walking past.  
Niall gasps. “Louis!”  
“See, that’s what you’re supposed to do.” Louis crosses his over his chest and gives a curt nod.   
Niall’s laughing, but then he freezes, the colour draining from his face.   
“What is it?” Louis asks.   
Slowly, he turns around, and he goes rigid when he sees the guy he tripped standing over him. He grabs Louis’ shirt in his hand and shoves him up against the counter.   
“Watch where you’re going,” he growls, clenching his fist.   
Louis pats him on the shoulder, trying to get the guy to let him go and back off. It only makes him angrier, and he shoves him again. Louis’ back hits against the counter with a loud thud and he groans.   
“Okay, okay,” Louis mutters, reaching behind himself to rub his back.   
“Excuse me, but can you please let my friend go?” Niall taps the guy on the shoulder, and he whips around with his fists raised.   
“You want to fight?”   
“Someone is an angry drunk,” Louis says under his breath.   
The guy spins back around. “Keep talking shit and I’ll break your nose.”  
Louis snorts. “I’d like to see you try.”  
“Yeah? You want to test that theory?”  
The bartender, who had been watching this entire time, steps in. He steps between Louis and his unnamed attacker, keeping them separated so Louis’ can prevent the impeding broken nose.   
“Okay, let’s break it up,” he says. “No one is going to break any noses today.”  
The guy glares. “Who’s gonna stop me?”  
“I am.” The bartender fixes him a glare. “I’ll get security to throw you out. Either you can be peaceful or you can be removed. Take your pick.”  
The guy stares Louis down, but it’s obvious that he’s given in. He spits on the ground in front of Louis’ shoes before he stalks off and disappears into the crowd.   
Louis smooths out his shirt and shakes his head. Niall looks stunned, and he frantically reaches out to touch Louis’ shoulders as he sits.   
“Holy shit, are you okay?” He asks.   
“I’m good.” Louis shrugs. “Completely fine. No big deal.”  
Niall raises his eyebrows. “You’re ridiculous.”   
Louis cracks, a loud laugh escaping. “Okay, that was insane.”   
“He completely beat the crap out of you!”  
“Alright, alright, you don’t have to rub it in.” Louis pretends to scowl. He doesn’t feel as drunk as before. Probably something to do with the shock or something. “I think we need another round of shots.   
“I can go for something else to drink,” Niall says. “Bartender!”  
…  
The next day at the shelter is brutal. Louis is nursing one of the worst hangovers he’s ever had, and when he saw Niall on their break, he can tell his is just as bad.   
Louis covers a yawn and scoops stew into Agnes’ bowl.   
“Long night?”   
He snorts. “You have no idea.”  
“You look hungover,” she says.   
“What do you know about hangovers?”   
“I was young once,” Agnes replies.   
Louis laughs, a wide smile on his face. “What could a sweet lady like you possibly have gotten up to?”  
“You know what they say, the good girls are always the wildest,” she says with a wink.   
“True, true.” Louis laughs. “Well, have a good day.”  
“You too, Louis,” she replies.   
He keeps a smile stretched wide over his lips until Agnes has settled down at her table. Then his typical frown takes over as he serves food to the rest of the guests in line.   
“Would it kill you to smile?” It’s the guy he served chili to the day before, the one who smells like a corpse. Louis tries to remember his name, but he can’t. It’s something with an S; that much he knows.   
Louis forces the fakest smile he can, mustering up all his strength so he can prevent himself from strangling the guy.   
“There, better?” He raises an eyebrow expectantly, and the guy frowns.   
“Give me my damn food.”  
“If you say the magic word.” Louis laughs to himself. “It starts with a P and rhymes with cheese.”   
“Please give me my damn good,” the homeless guy demands.   
“Much better.”   
Louis dunks the ladle into the stew and fills up the guy’s bowl. He gives Louis a look of pure irritation as he walks away, but he couldn’t give two shits. Whatever this guy’s issue may be is not Louis’ problem. He’s just here to serve food, not make friends. Agnes happens to be the exception.   
“Louis,” he hears someone call, and he spins around to see his boss standing by the doorway.   
Hugo is round and burly, maybe five foot five with a thick beard. He’s around his mid-forties to early fifties, grey hair just starting to become present. He’s tough on the exterior, but anyone who talks to him knows he keeps a photo of his kids on his desk and calls his wife on every one of his breaks.   
“What’s up, Hugo?” He asks. He hands the ladle over to Jaime and meets his boss by the door.   
“I need you to help unload some of the trucks,” Hugo says. “I’d put Niall Horan on it, but he’s taking a break. Poor guy, says he’s got a sore stomach.”  
Louis snorts. If only Hugo knew that the supposed “sore stomach” was the result of Niall getting drunk off his ass and not wanting to do his duties in the shelter. Hugo was too nice for his own good; too gullible.   
“Sure,” Louis replies, hiding his smile in his hand.   
“Just ask the guys by the truck what they need you to do,” Hugo tells him.   
“Will do, boss,” Louis says.  
The delivery station is almost smells worse than the kitchen. It constantly reeks of truck fumes and cigarette smoke, and Louis breaks out into a coughing fit as walks up to the large transport truck.   
“Hey, what are you doing here?”   
Louis rolls his shoulders back and turns around to face the guy calling him out. He’s long and lean with bony arms, maybe two inches taller than Louis. His skin is dark, and he’s got his dark brown hair styled in a quiff.   
“Hugo sent me to help,” he says.   
The guy narrows his eyes. A few people around him stop to see what’s going on, but Louis isn’t having it. He isn’t about to be shown up by some dude working deliveries.   
“What’s your name?” He asks.   
“Louis Tomlinson. You?” Louis answers.   
“Zayn Malik. This is Tyler, Marcus, and Sam.” He points to the guys around him when he says each name. “Finley and Jacob are smoking a cig around the corner.”  
“They hook up sometimes, but if it comes into question, they’re both a hundred percent straight,” Tyler says.   
“Okay.” Louis snorts. The gay denial. He hasn’t been there in years.   
“Sometimes they make out in front of us. We also don’t comment on that,” Tyler continues.   
“Apart from telling them to keep it in their pants,” Marcus adds.  
Louis raises his eyebrows. “Oh, so it’s that bad?”  
“It’s that bad,” Tyler says.   
“Hey, hey,” Zayn interrupts. “How about we start by laying down some ground rules.”   
“Uh, I guess? I mean, I’m only here for the day,” Louis says.   
Zayn ignores him. “You don’t tell Hugo about our smoke breaks. We don’t speak about how often Jacob and Finley fuck. Whatever happens stays in the circle, no matter how illegal. And most importantly, do your share of the fucking work.”   
Louis blinks in surprise. “Got it.”   
“Now that we’ve got that out of the way, get to work,” Zayn barks at his coworkers. “Louis and I are going to light up.”   
He flashes the neatly rolled joints tucked into the waistband of his sweatpants, and Louis smirks. If he thought it had been a while since he’d been drink, it had certainly been longer since he’d smoked weed.   
“We’re already breaking rule number four,” Louis says as they turn the corner.   
Zayn shrugs. “I always smoke up with the new guys. When that Niall Horan guy came along we got high and talked about deer mice. He’s pretty damn weird, but there’s something about him that I like.”   
“I know what you mean.” Louis takes a long drag of the blunt and lets out the smoke with a sigh.   
“Oh, you know him?” Zayn asks.   
“Yeah, I met him yesterday. We went out for drinks,” Louis replies.  
“Oh, cool.” Zayn nods his head and takes a puff.   
“Hey, you should join us for lunch,” Louis says. “I’m always looking to expand my friend group.”  
Zayn glances at him, giving him a sly smile. “What—you, me, and Horan?”  
“Is that what you call him?” Louis raises his eyebrows.   
“Yeah, it is. And as long as we know who’s in charge, I think we got ourselves a deal, Tomlinson,” Zayn says.   
“If you don’t bring your buddies along, then I accept the deal,” Louis replies.   
Zayn narrows his eyes. “Fine.”   
“Good.” Louis drops the blunt to the ground and steps on it. “See you at lunch.”  
“Yeah.” Zayn watches him walk away, a smile playing at his lips.   
…  
“Why is he here?” Niall asks upon seeing Louis walk up to their table with Zayn.   
“I invited him,” Louis answers.   
“You better not have your goons with you,” Niall says.   
Zayn holds up his hands. “It’s just me, I promise.”   
“Alright, you’re welcome to eat with us,” Niall gives in.  
“Wow, this doesn’t seem overly friendly,” Louis remarks as he takes a bite of garlic bread.   
Zayn shrugs. “This is how I do things.”   
“And I just go along with his signals,” Niall says defensively.   
Louis looks at Zayn accusingly. “You told me you liked him.”  
“I do,” Zayn insists.   
“Okay.” Louis rolls his eyes. “Anyway, what are you even in here for?”  
Zayn shrugs. “Stuff.”  
“What kind of stuff?” Niall asks.   
Zayn rolls his eyes. “Theft.”  
“Me too,” Louis says. “I attempted to steal two hundred pounds.”  
“He acts like he’s got big game but in reality, little Lou says it was an accident,” Niall says, playfully shoving Louis in the shoulder.   
“An accident my ass,” Zayn scoffs.   
“Oh, shut up,” Louis huffs. “You don’t know shit.”  
“Okay, okay.” Niall holds up his hands in surrender before he turns back to Zayn. “So. What did you steal? Money? Alcohol?”  
“Close,” Zayn answers. “Two packs of cigarettes.”  
“Ah,” Louis hums. “You know what they say about addicts.”  
He’s teasing, but Zayn still narrows his eyes. “I am not an addict.”   
Louis has a snappy response on the tip of his tongue, but he’s cut off from the sound of a throat clearing over the speaker system. Every head in the room turns to look at the stage, where Hugo is standing next to a young guy who looks rather scared.   
“Now that I have your attention, I’d like to introduce our newest addition to the team, Liam Payne.”   
He’s shaking. He’s relatively tall and well built, but he looks so scared. Louis’ just thankful that this ordeal didn’t happen to him when he came to the shelter.   
“Liam is going to be working in shifts, since we don’t have a full time spot for him at the moment. For now he is to start in the kitchen, but next week he’ll be on the trucks, and then he’ll be working in the activity room the week after that,” Hugo says. “I want you all to treat him with respect. Normally I’d deliver this speech to the group someone is working at, but since Liam is on rotary, that isn’t the case.”  
“What a fucking joke,” Zayn mutters. Louis hides his laughter with a cough.   
“I know, right.” Niall snorts. “Look at him, he’s like a scared little puppy.”  
“Niall, that’s not very nice,” Louis says.  
“Oh, shit, I’m sorry,” he says. “So sorry.”  
Louis frowns and glances at Zayn, who has a similar expression. He just shrugs, and Louis does the same.  
“I need each one of you to accept the extra hand and to teach Liam how things work,” Hugo is saying. “So, with that being said, who can offer Liam a seat and give him the reigns?”  
Louis goes to raise his hand, but Zayn reaches over and yanks it down.   
“Dude, what the fuck are you doing?” He demands.   
“He could be a valuable asset,” Louis says. “He’s going to be working everywhere. He can give us the dirt, we could use him to do our dirty work… it’s a win-win situation, Zayn.”  
He lets out a long sigh, and Louis can see him turning the idea over in his head. He finally nods, and Louis is quick to put up his hand.   
“Thank you, Louis,” Hugo says. “Go have a seat, Liam.”  
The speakers cut out, and the next thing the guys at the table know is Liam popping up in front of them. He’s fidgeting, twiddling his thumbs, and Zayn eyes him up and down.   
“He’s kind of cute,” he says to Louis, leaning over to whisper to him.   
Louis raises his eyebrows in surprise. “I never would have guessed you swing that way.”  
Zayn shrugs. “I’m into people, not genders. Pansexual, you could say, but I’m not a fan of labels.”  
Louis goes to respond, but Liam clears his throat, and he directs his attention to him instead.   
“Hey. Have a seat,” he says.   
“Oh. Thanks,” Liam mutters and takes a seat next to Niall. He looks easily startled, and judging by the look on Zayn’s face, he seems to find that endearing.   
Louis narrows his eyes.   
“I’m Louis Tomlinson,” he says. “This is Zayn Malik and Niall Horan.”  
“Nice to meet you,” Liam replies.   
“Let’s get stories out of the way. What did you do to land yourself here?” Zayn asks.   
Surprisingly, Liam blushes bright red. “Oh, um. I’d rather not talk about it.”  
Niall nudges his shoulder. “Come on, please? We’ll tell you what we did first.”  
“Okay,” Liam agrees, although he still looks apprehensive. Louis finds himself beginning to wonder if they can trust him.  
“Who wants to go first?” Niall asks.   
“You can, since you suggested it,” Louis answers.   
Niall looks at Zayn, but he shakes his head and puts a finger over his lips. Niall sighs.   
“Here’s the gist: I tried to catfish someone, got caught by her best friend, and now I’m here,” he says. “If you don’t have any questions, I think Louis would like to tell you what he did now.”  
“I do have one question,” Liam sheepishly admits.   
Niall shoots him an are you kidding me face, but he gives him a go ahead nod anyway.  
“What does catfishing even mean? And why did you do it?” Liam asks.   
“First off, that’s two questions,” Niall says, and chuckles as Liam turns red under his stare. “But the answer is easy. I pretended to be someone else for one reason and one reason only: money.”  
“I guess that makes sense,” Liam mutters.   
“Louis, it’s your turn to share,” Niall prompts.   
He scowls, but he doesn’t object. “I tried to steal two hundred pounds. I didn’t think anything through so I sort of fucked up real bad.”  
“That blows.” Liam looks genuinely sad for him, and Louis tries to think of a reason why they shouldn’t accept him into their group, but fails. The three of them are already so diverse. A fourth member of the crew doesn’t seem so bad. All that’s left is for Liam to prove himself.   
“I stole some cigs,” Zayn offers. “Now you’re the only one left. Get talking.”  
“I, um.” Liam pauses. “I got charged with possession. Uh, pot.”  
Zayn raises his eyebrows. “A little princess like you smoking weed? I don’t believe it.”  
Liam shrugs. “It was for my girlfriend. I only smoke occasionally.”  
“Bullshit,” Louis says, rolling his eyes.   
“No, it’s true,” Liam says. “She’s small, skinny. No one would take her seriously. She sends me to get it.”  
“Wait a second, hold up. You have a girlfriend?” Zayn asks.   
“Yeah. Her name is Amy,” Liam tells him. A smile tugs at his lips and it make something stir in the pit of Zayn’s stomach.   
“How long have you been together?” Niall asks, oblivious to the tension radiating off of Zayn.   
“Almost two years,” Liam answers. Despite his grin, his eyes hold a certain sadness. Louis immediately knows he’s hiding something, and by the way Zayn’s head cocks to the side, he can tell that so does he. Niall is the only one who seems to be oblivious.  
“Good for you,” Zayn says bitterly. “Excuse me, but I’ve got to get back to work.”   
“I’ll go with,” Niall says. “If Hugo asks, tell him I’m feeling better and you went back to the kitchen.”  
“Alright?” It comes out as a question, and Louis is left confused as Zayn and Niall abandon the table.   
“What was that about?” Liam asks.   
“I have no idea.”   
…  
“So, Payne, if you’re going to work with me, you’re going to need to understand how things work,” Zayn says.   
“Okay,” Liam replies, slowly.   
His first week of the shelter flew by. He was on kitchen duty with Louis, but now he’s on deliveries with Zayn and Niall and he’s almost certain that this week is going to crawl.   
Niall rests his elbow on Liam’s shoulder, wiggling his eyebrows. Liam shoots him a look of confusion, but Zayn turns his head back towards him.   
“You seem tough, but we all know you’re weak. At Rouge Valley, your girlfriend isn’t here to protect you. You follow the rules and we won’t have a problem. Got it?”   
“Got it,” Liam practically whispers. His eyes are wide.  
“Finley and Jacob like to fuck. We don’t talk about that. Sometimes we do illegal things. That stays in the circle. We take smoke breaks. Hugo isn’t to hear a thing.” Zayn says. “And finally, if you don’t do your share of the work, prepare to have your ass kicked. Are we understood?”  
“We’re understood.” Liam swallows hard, his eyes blown wide with fear.   
It’s silent for a moment, and then Niall bursts out in a loud laugh.   
“Jesus, mate, you should see your face. Zayn’s only kidding,” he says. “He did it to me, too.”  
“Are you kidding me?” Liam shoots Zayn a glare. “That wasn’t fucking funny!”  
Zayn snorts. “It was a little funny.”   
“Is this some kind of game?” Liam demands.   
“It’s a test. I have to know if you’re willing to follow the rules. Intimidation is how I get that done,” Zayn answers.   
“Well, it worked,” Liam says, though he’s only confirming what Zayn already knows.  
“I know.” He gives a sly grin. “Now grab a fucking box and get moving.”   
Liam sighs and grabs a box from the back of the truck. He follows Zayn over to the sorting area with Niall hot on their heels.   
“So… tell me about this girlfriend,” Zayn says.  
Liam raises an eyebrow. “Why are you so interested in Amy?”  
“Because I just am, alright? I like to get to know the people I work with,” Zayn responds, trying to sound calm and collected.  
“Alright.” Liam sounds skeptical, but he’s too nice to blatantly tell Zayn he’s full of shit. “I’ll tell you, I don’t like to talk about my girlfriend.”  
“And why not? Shouldn’t you be proud to, like, show her off or whatever?” Zayn asks. Niall remains quiet, and Liam would think he was lost in his own world if not for the eye fixed on him.   
“It’s complicated,” Liam replies.   
“Oh, I get it. You’re deflecting, which means something is actually wrong,” Zayn says. “Talk. Come on, spill it.”   
Liam shakes his head. “I’m good, man. My personal business is my own.”  
“Whatever, man,” Zayn scoffs. “Fine, don’t talk. Be my guest.”  
“Are you honestly upset over this?” Liam looks incredulous, his eyebrows raised and his hand on his hip. “Jesus, I just don’t want to tell you details on mine and Amy’s relationship. I met you a week ago, is that so hard to fathom?”  
“For a shy guy, you sure act like you have big game,” Zayn remarks.   
Liam shrugs. “I told you, I get Amy’s weed. I know how to be tough when I need to be. Most times I don’t see a reason.”  
“So you’re one of those guys.” Zayn rolls his eyes. “Come on, Payne, don’t be one of those weak boys.”  
“I’m not.” Liam scowls.   
“You are,” Zayn bites back. “I don’t deal with weak boys.”  
“Then don’t. See if I give a shit.”  
“I want more of that, not that shy ordeal, okay?” Zayn says. “Now get to work. We’ll talk at lunch.”   
Liam eyes him, but he relents. “Okay, let’s do that.”  
…  
“Am I the only one who thinks Zayn has the hots for Payno?” Niall asks.   
It’s Saturday night, and him and Louis are laying in the field with five empty beer bottles on the ground between them. Niall’s already had three and he’s sipping on a fourth, and Louis has a half empty bottle in his hand.   
“Who the fuck is Payno?” Louis says in response.   
“Um, Liam?” Niall gives him the duh face. “Keep up, Lou.”  
“Lou?” Louis raises his eyebrows. “Did I say you could call me that?”  
“I made up nicknames for everyone. You’re Lou, Liam’s Payno, and Zayn is just Zayn because I’m afraid he’ll beat my ass if I call him anything else,” Niall says. “Anyway, stop deflecting. Do you think Zayn likes Liam or not?”  
Louis purses his lips, considering it. “He does seem to be hung up on Liam’s girlfriend. And he does give Liam bedroom eyes. I think he just wants to fuck him.”  
“Like, no strings attached?” Niall asks.   
“No strings attached,” Louis answers. “But Liam’s cute and shy, but he can speak his mind. There will be attachment at some point.”   
“You think Zayn’s a romantic like that?”   
“I never said that. I said I think he’s going to fall hard for Payno. That and Zayn being a romantic isn’t the same thing.”  
Niall grins. “I see you using my nicknames. Thank you, it’s appreciated.”  
“Okay?” Louis furrows his eyebrows, looking at Niall in a mixture of bewilderment and confusion. “What do you think of Liam?”  
“I think he’s nice. If Zayn ends up fucking him, I give them my blessing,” Niall says.   
Louis bursts out in surprised laughter. “No! I meant—you’re really fucking weird, did you know that?”  
“I know.” Niall nudges his shoulder, a smile on his face. “That’s part of my charm.”  
Louis snorts and reaches over to pat his shoulder. “Whatever you say, mate.”  
“I need a nickname,” Niall declares. “Give me one.”  
“I’ll call you asshole, because that’s what you’re being,” Louis retorts.   
“Alright, fine. No nickname.” Niall’s bottom lip pokes out in a pout. “Next time we’re inviting Zayn along so we can get some of his weed.”  
“What about Liam?” Louis asks.   
Niall shrugs. “I’m cool with it, but Zayn might make it all about grilling Liam on Amy, so maybe we could not invite him? Just this once?”  
“His feelings are going to be hurt, but I won’t tell if you don’t,” Louis replies.   
“Cross my heart,” Niall says.   
“Text Zayn and tell him that we’re going to meet him outside of Tesco’s at ten tomorrow night,” Louis says.   
“Why Tesco’s? And why that late at night?” Niall asks. Louis swears under his breath, cursing him for being so damn inquisitive.   
“Because that way we can buy some crap food and go straight to lighting up,” Louis answers. “There’s a field behind the store. We’re going to smoke there.”  
“That’s a bad idea, Lou,” Niall replies. The nickname makes Louis scowl. “But I’m a criminal, so we all know I’m down for bad ideas. Let’s do it.”   
Louis grins.   
…  
“I don’t like sweet chili heat, Lou!”  
“Well, I do.”  
“But I don’t.”  
“Niall, shut the fuck up. Louis’ buying so he gets to pick, end of.”  
That’s how the three of them end up in the back field with two bags of sweet chili heat Doritos. Louis only did it to piss Niall off, and Zayn found his anger quite amusing, so he went along with it.   
“So, Zayn,” Niall begins, a blunt in one hand and a stack of chips on his chest. “I’ve been meaning to ask you. Do you want to bang Payno?”  
“Payno? Oh, Liam.” Zayn turns red. “I’ve known the guy for a week.”   
“You’re deflecting,” Niall sing songs.   
“So what if I am?” Zayn snaps. He pauses to take a long drag of his joint. “Sexual thoughts are a thing. That doesn’t mean I want to raise babies with him.”  
“Good, because I couldn’t picture you with a kid,” Louis says. It’s meant to be a joke, and he’s thankful that Zayn cracks a smile. It’s small, but it’s better than a frown. “Besides, aren’t there better things to talk about than Zayn wanting to bed a taken man?”  
“Hey, fuck you, man.” Zayn slaps Louis in the shoulder, and Niall cackles.   
“I’m just saying.” Louis chuckles. “He’s off limits, which makes him appealing. It’s not an uncommon fantasy.”  
“Why are we discussing this?” Zayn groans and takes another drag. “If we’re going to talk about this, I’m going to need crack, or something.”   
Niall rolls his eyes. “Come on, man, it’s not that bad.”  
“Yeah, I’m with Niall,” Louis says. “Talking about sexual fantasies is a good thing. Tell you what, I’ll spill the craziest of mine if you tell me yours.”  
“Yeah, no.” Zayn raises his eyebrows. “Who the hell do you think I am?”  
“Zayn Malik.” Niall shrugs, as if it’s obvious, and Louis and Zayn shoot him a look.   
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Zayn actually looks agitated. “You say the weirdest shit, Horan, and it isn’t because you’re high.”  
“Whatever.” Niall waves his hand. “Hey, did you guys hear that we’re getting a newbie?”  
Louis narrows his eyes. “Who?”  
“Yeah,” Zayn agrees, his forehead puckering with a frown.  
“I don’t know. Harry something,” Niall answers.   
“And when is he supposed to show up?” Louis asks.   
“Tomorrow or Thursday, I can’t remember which one,” Niall replies. “I think he’s working deliveries.”  
Zayn lets out a sigh. “Of course. Sam is leaving the shelter and instead of giving Payne a permanent spot, they bring in someone else.”  
“Did you hear anything about what he did?” Louis asks.   
Niall shakes his head. “Nope. Hugo busted me when I was eavesdropping and he shouted at me to get back to work, then he slammed the door in my face.”  
“That doesn’t sound like him,” Louis says. A frown makes his eyebrows knit together.   
“No, it doesn’t,” Zayn says in agreement. “Whoever this Harry guy is, he has Hugo on edge.”  
“You need to put him in his place, show him who owns the trucks,” Niall says.   
“Oh, I’m going to try,” Zayn replies. “Now pass me another blunt.”  
…  
That rumoured Harry doesn’t show his face until Thursday. Sam had his last day on Wednesday, and traditionally, a party was thrown for him with cake and everything. That’s when Zayn knew he had to prepare for their meeting.   
He knew this guy was official when Hugo gave the delivery workers The Talk. He had listened to the rant four times, and it was always the same speech on respect, acceptance, and giving guidance. Zayn’s more than tired of it.   
Harry Styles, as he learns, has curly brown hair, green eyes, and long skinny legs. He doesn’t look at all intimidating, not with his bright eyes and chubby cheeks. He barely responded to Zayn’s intimidation tactics, and he barely took him up on his offer to light up on their break.  
“You seem pretty quiet,” Zayn says, a cigarette hanging from his lips. “Why is that?”   
Harry shrugs. “What’s there to talk about with total strangers? Nothing particularly interesting, that’s for sure.”  
“Oh, really?” Zayn raises his eyebrows. “You don’t find getting to know people interesting?”  
“I’m not into awkward conversations, which is what this is turning into.” Harry blows out smoke in a ring shape, and Zayn watches in awe.   
“How did you learn how to do that?” He asks.   
Harry grins and puts his finger to his lips. “That’s a secret I like to keep to myself. I’ve only ever taught two people.”  
“I’m going out with some friends tonight. Do you want to join?” Zayn asks.   
Harry gives him a look. “What did I just say about strangers and how I don’t talk to them?”  
“After a while, you become something more than strangers,” Zayn says.   
“Maybe so.” Harry drops his cigarette to the ground and steps on it, squashing it under the heel of his shoe. “Tell you what, I’ll indulge you just this once.”  
“You might actually like it,” Zayn says as Harry begins to walk away.   
“I doubt it,” Harry calls over his shoulder. “But I’ll try anything once.”   
…  
Louis is floored.  
The last thing he expected was Harry to be so gorgeous. He’s got pretty eyes and pretty lips and pretty dimples when he smiles, which is just as beautiful.   
They’re at some pub on the outskirts of town. They’ve all ordered pints with chicken wings and fries, and there’s a pizza as well. It’s too much food, but Louis is buzzed, so he can’t bring himself to care.   
“What did you do, Harry?” Niall asks. “Steal something, drug bust?”  
Harry snorts, but the glare he shoots Zayn doesn’t go unnoticed. “Is that what you brought me here for—to question me?”   
“Come on, Harry.” Zayn sighs. “Give us a chance.”  
Zayn doesn’t beg. Louis knows that for a fact. Which is why him asking Harry to stay and talk is weird. He’s only known Harry for a day. There’s no way he’s that special.   
Harry lets out a sigh. “What I did isn’t important. What you all did isn’t important. I can live without that information and so can you.”   
Liam and Zayn exchange a look. Louis glances down at his lap, and then to Harry, who is already staring at him. His cheeks heat up and he looks at Niall, but as usual, he’s oblivious to the tension. Of course.   
The last person Louis had slept with had been a young guy that went by the name of Ethan. He was two years younger than Louis with the nicest hazel eyes and short brown hair.   
Louis had been endeared by him. He bought him things and took him on dates and they smoked weed together. Ethan was his first love. They did everything together, from sharing an apartment to getting drunk to getting high, and they had a lot of sex. But then shit happened, and Louis hasn’t seen him since he got busted at the convenience store last year.   
A lot of things changed between them. Louis has never been able to accept what happened.   
He hasn’t so much as kissed anyone since Ethan. He always blamed his lack of attraction on being so consumed with trying to stay out of prison. But even that cop out could only stretch so far.  
But here’s Harry, young and attractive. Rather mysterious. That’s hot. It’s also confusing.   
Louis clears his throat. “I think it’s time for me to head home.”  
“Yeah, same,” Harry says. “Do you need a ride?”  
“No, I’m good. I came with Niall,” Louis replies.  
“Excuse me, but I’m not ready to go home,” Niall says. “Go home with Harry or accept that you’ll be stuck here until I’m ready to leave.”  
Louis shoots him a glare. “Fine. I’ll take you up on that ride, Harry.”   
Harry snorts, shaking his head in amusement. He dangles his keys in front of Louis’ face. “You coming? Or are you just going to sit there?”  
Louis pinches his wrist to steel himself and he nods. Wordlessly, he stands from the table and follows Harry out to his car. The drive is silent apart from the radio that’s playing classic rock, and Louis quickly learns Harry isn’t a very talkative guy.   
He looks over at him and sees him tapping his fingers along to the song playing through the speakers. Paranoid; Black Sabbath flashes across the screen and Louis takes the opportunity for conversation. He reaches for the dial to turn the sound up.   
“I love this song,” he remarks, gauging Harry’s reaction carefully.   
He shrugs. “It’s okay. I’ve never been much of a Black Sabbath fan. I grew up on the other side of rock.”  
Louis raises his eyebrows. “Give me an example.”  
“Spoon, Bright Eyes, Sunny Day Real Estate. Bands like that,” Harry answers.   
“Harry, that’s not rock music. That’s that indie shit.” Louis shakes his head in disbelief. “How can you stand to listen to it?”  
Harry shrugs. “My mum loved it, and I never stopped. Besides, there are good indie bands out there. It’s not all shit, unlike your rock bands who scream all their lyrics.”   
“That’s—Harry, that’s also not rock music. That’s screamo, hence the name.” Louis rolls his eyes. “I will give you an education one of these days.”   
“Only if you let me do the same,” Harry challenges, raising his eyebrows at him.  
Louis waves his hand. “Yeah, yeah.”  
It’s quiet for a moment, and Louis is almost able to forget that this isn’t a hangout, that Harry is only doing him a favour when he asks the question.   
“Where do I turn next?”   
And right, Harry is only driving him home. This doesn’t mean anything else.   
“Uh, make a left on Church, and then keep driving straight until you get to the McDonalds. Then make a right and it’s the flat complexes at the end of Ryerson.”  
“I didn’t realize that you lived so close to the shelter,” Harry says.   
“Yeah, I walk most days,” Louis replies. “I don’t like to use my car. Gas is expensive.”   
“I feel you,” Harry hums. “Unfortunately, I have no choice. I live closer to downtown London, and although that’s a shopping benefit, all of the grocery stores and such are over in this area.”  
“You could always move closer,” Louis suggests. “We all live in this area. It’d be nice to have you around.”  
It’s out of his mouth before he can stop himself. Harry snorts, raising his eyebrows in a questioning manner.   
“You don’t even know me.”   
“I know, but—That can change,” Louis says. “I want to get to know you. We all do. If you give us a chance that can change.”  
“So you’re going to tell me that you know the others personally? That you’re close to them? That’s bullshit and we both know it,” Harry scoffs.   
“Yeah, we’re not super close but that’s because we haven’t known each other long,” Louis answers. “We’re working on it. We make plans, we do things together. I’m friends with them, and I’d like to be able to say the same about you.”  
Harry falls silent. Louis is beginning to think that he’s successfully turned him off of the whole group, that he isn’t going to talk to them apart from when they’re on the job.   
He’s proven wrong.   
“Alright,” Harry mutters.   
“What?”  
“I said alright. I’ll go out with you guys again,” Harry replies. “But don’t expect me to go spilling my life secrets. I don’t talk on the first date. Or the second, or the third.”   
“A date?” Louis’s lips part with confusion.   
“Figure of speech,” Harry answers. “Anyway, here we are, Ryerson Flat Complex.”  
“Thanks for the ride,” Louis says, one hand on the door.   
“Anytime,” Harry returns.   
“Do you—” Louis pauses. “Do you want to come in for a minute?”   
Harry smiles one of those smiles, and Louis knows the answer without him even saying it.  
“Another time,” he says.   
“Yeah, sure.” It takes all he has to not let his face fall. “I’ll see you at the shelter.”  
“See you.”   
Louis doesn’t dare look over his shoulder on the way up to his flat. Whatever the car ride meant to him, it’s obvious Harry doesn’t return that. He just needs to accept that they’ll always remain platonic.   
He falls against the couch with a heavy sigh and sends Niall an SOS text.   
“Ha ha, what happened? Did he grab your dick or did you grab his?”   
“None of that, you ass.”  
“Then was is it?”   
“I’m fucked, Niall.”   
“I know, man. Hopefully literally. I have to go but make sure you touch his dick next time.”   
Louis throws his phone against the couch and groans.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next part is going to be super fluffy with a lotta Ziam and Larry and OT5 feels.

“I think Amy’s cheating on me.”  
The confession comes on Monday’s kitchen shift. Louis almost drops the ladle on the ground, and he twists to look at Liam with a concerned expression.   
“Okay. Um, why do you think that?” Louis asks, trying to keep his tone light.   
“She had a love bite yesterday. I didn’t give her that,” Liam answers.   
Louis furrows his eyebrows. “Was it only this one time?”   
“Yeah, but she doesn’t want to sleep with me anymore. She comes home late and goes straight to the shower. She barely even kisses me,” Liam says. “I know it, I know she’s cheating.”  
Louis pats him on the shoulder. “Maybe it’s a good thing. You get out of a bad relationship, Zayn gets to make a move, and then you wind up in a good relationship with more sex than Amy’s been giving you.”  
Liam frowns. “Excuse me?”   
“Shit,” Louis mutters. “I wasn’t supposed to say that.”  
“Hold up, Zayn’s gay?” Liam asks.   
“He’s pansexual, but he doesn’t do labels most of the time,” Louis says.   
“Does he like me?” Liam fiddles with his thumbs, and Louis can tell he’s uncomfortable.   
“That’s what Niall and I think, but Zayn keeps denying it,” Louis answers. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you that, so please don’t mention any of it to Zayn.”   
“You can’t expect me not to say something,” Liam retorts. “If he likes me I want to know.”  
“Why? Does the thought of a guy liking you make you uncomfortable?” Louis’ tone sounds almost threatening, and Liam blinks in surprise.   
“I don’t know. No, it doesn’t. Okay, maybe a little,” Liam admits.  
“You’re telling me you’ve never thought of dudes that way?” Louis snorts, shaking his head. “Because if you do, I’ll call bullshit before you’re able to blink.”  
Liam hesitates. “Of course I’ve thought of it, but then I met Amy and I haven’t since.”  
“So maybe you’re still curious,” Louis says. “Loving Amy doesn’t make you straight.”  
“I’m not gay,” Liam replies. “I’m saying that confidently. I’m not gay.”   
Louis shrugs. “Maybe you’re bi.”  
“Can we drop this?” Liam asks. “My sexuality is my business.”  
“I’ll shut up if you agree not to ask Zayn how he feels about you,” Louis says.   
“Fine,” Liam snaps.   
“Excuse me, but if you’re done gossiping, I’d like to get some food now.”   
Louis glares at the man in line, and Liam just picks up the ladle with a sigh.   
…  
“Have you ever shotgunned before?” Zayn asks.   
Harry glances at him briefly from where he’s leaning against the wall. “Once, but not correctly. I can’t say it was a good experience.”  
“I can teach you,” Zayn offers nonchalantly. “I’m practically an expert.”   
Harry shrugs. “Why not?”   
He drops his joint to the ground and steps on it to put in out. Zayn steps towards him, and Harry rolls his shoulders back in anticipation.   
“Keep your lips open, okay? I’m going to cup my hand around your mouth.”  
“Okay,” Harry says softly, almost nervously.   
Zayn takes a long drag of the blunt and reaches awkwardly for Harry’s face. He cups his hand around his mouth and leans forward to blow the smoke down his throat. Harry coughs, trying to pull away, but Zayn moves his hand so it’s cupped around the back of his neck. Somewhere in the process, Zayn’s mouth closes enough to be kissing him, and Harry presses back before he realizes what he’s doing.   
He pulls back quickly, staring at Zayn with wide eyes. He runs his finger over his lips, and his eyes flick back and forth between Zayn’s and his lips.   
“Zayn?” He whispers. “What the fuck was that?”  
“An accident?” Zayn responds, equally as quiet.   
“Accident. Okay, yeah, it was an accident,” Harry says. “Because we’re high, right?”  
“Right, and we won’t discuss it,” Zayn replies. Then, after a moment: “Do you usually kiss boys?”  
“I thought we said we weren’t going to talk about it,” Harry says as a response.   
“I know, sorry. Just curious.” Zayn lets out an awkward chuckle, and Harry sighs.   
“I’m gay,” he says. “So, yeah, I kiss boys.”  
He fidgets, and Zayn studies his face for a moment.   
“Cool,” he replies. “I kiss everyone.”  
“You’re pan?” Harry asks.   
Zayn shrugs. “Labels are shit. I’m just really fucking queer.”  
Harry snorts. “I got you.”  
“We’re cool, right?”  
“We’re cool.”  
“Good.”   
“Yeah.”  
…  
“I don’t know what to do, Niall,” Louis says.   
“About what?”   
“About Harry.”  
They’re in a barely crowded pub in downtown London. Niall had insisted they go out for pints and pizza, and Louis only accepted when Niall agreed to pay. Turning down free alcohol is like turning down a free kitten: impossible.   
“I told you, touch his dick,” Niall says.   
“And how do you suggest I do that?”  
Niall shrugs. “I don’t know. Just touch it.”  
“I’m not going to ‘just touch it.’ I can’t just walk up to him and go ‘hey, Harry’ and touch his dick. That’s so not cool,” Louis replies.   
“Unless he gets turned on and wants you to touch it without his pants on,” Niall says. “That would be cool.”  
“Are you sure you’re not gay?”  
“Ninety five percent straight.”  
“Where are the other five percent?” Louis asks.   
“Up some guy’s ass. That’s how you fuck them, right?”   
“Jesus Christ,” Louis mutters.   
“Anyway, like I was saying. Take it from someone who seduced a girl enough for her to send me sixty grand. People respond to sex. You just have to get him interested in doing it with you,” Niall says.   
“I don’t do that kind of thing,” Louis replies.   
“Why not? Casual sex is cool. Casual sex is better than complicated sex,” Niall says.   
Louis shrugs. “I had a bad experience. No big deal.”  
“Well, you could change that bad experience one fuck with Harry at a time,” Niall answers.  
“You’re so weird.” Louis shakes his head.   
Niall rolls his eyes. “Just mess around with him. I promise you’ll feel a hundred times better when you get laid.”  
“Maybe I’ll take you up on that,” Louis says.   
“You betting on that?”  
Louis snorts. “Please. I’m not betting on my Harry virginity.”  
“Harry virginity?” Niall raises his eyebrows.   
“I’ve never fucked him. I’m a Harry virgin,” Louis answers.   
Niall laughs. “Fucking hell, Lou.”  
“When was the last time you had sex?” Louis asks.   
“The girl I catfished,” Niall answers. “Wait, phone sex counts, right?”  
Louis chuckles. “It counts. Anyway, what if I just take him out on a date? Woo him properly?”  
“Dates are overrated. Just touch his dick.”  
“Stop suggesting that!”  
Niall tosses his head back and laughs.   
“Just ask him out,” Niall says. “What are you so worried about?”  
“I’ve never been too good at relationships,” Louis tells him quietly.  
Niall pauses for a moment. “Will telling you not to stress too much help?”  
“Not really,” Louis replies.   
“Well, I’m going to tell you anyway,” Niall says. “If it works out it works out. If you’re meant to be something, then it won’t be hard.”  
Louis cracks a smile. “Thanks, Niall.”  
Niall pats him on the shoulder. “Anytime.”  
…  
“Wanna come over tonight?” Zayn asks Harry as they pass boxes from the truck down to their coworkers.   
“Is that code for lighting up?” Harry questions, an amused expression on his face.   
“It could be.” Zayn chuckles. “We could also watch movies, get drunk. Eat junk food until we throw up.”  
“That sounds oddly appealing,” Harry replies. “But before I agree to anything, who’s all coming?”  
Zayn shrugs. “I was thinking just me and you?”  
“Oh.” Harry seems surprised. “Okay.”  
“Okay,” Zayn echoes. “Come over at seven. I’ll order pizza.”  
“I like pepperoni,” Harry says in response.   
Zayn laughs. “Alright.”  
“Hey, boys!” Niall calls to them. “Stop gossiping and get the fuck back to work.”  
Harry rolls his eyes. “Coming, your majesty.”  
“Come on.” Zayn pats him on the shoulder. “Later you can tell me what beer you like the best. I don’t do that cheap stuff.”  
“Good to know.”   
Niall pauses, and the he lifts a finger to count the workers.   
“We’re short,” he says. “Where are Finley and Jacob?”  
“I bet they’re fucking in the bathroom,” Tyler says.   
“Jesus Christ,” Niall mutters. “I swear, if they walk off on the job one more time I’m going to shove a dolly up their asses.”  
Zayn looks at him in surprise. “When did you get so assertive?”  
“Hugo threatened me. He told me I was slacking off,” Niall answers.   
“I wonder why.” Harry rolls his eyes. “You go off and get drunk with Louis often enough.”   
“Hey, mind your own fucking business,” Niall says, but Harry catches the glint in his eyes.  
“Yeah, okay.” Harry shoots him a look.   
“There they are,” Zayn says. He points at two guys walking across the shipment lot.   
“Little late,” Niall says under his breath.   
Finley has his arm around Jacob, and he leans in to kiss him on the lips. They break apart as they approach, and Finley clears his throat. Everyone who was watching them turns around, and Jacob rolls his eyes.   
“Don’t look at them,” Zayn hisses. “If you look at them, we get the straight speech.”  
“Straight speech?” Harry asks. “They do that type of thing?”  
“Yes,” Zayn answers. “Now shut the fuck up and move some boxes.”  
“No, no, I want to hear this,” Harry says. He straightens up and turns to face Finley and Jacob.   
Zayn grabs his arm. “What the hell are you doing?”  
“Shut up.” Harry yanks his arm away and lifts his chin. “Where’d you guys fuck? The bathroom? Or maybe around the corner? I hear that exhibitionism is pretty hot, but I’ve yet to try it. Maybe you can tell me what it’s like.”  
“Harry,” Zayn hisses.   
Finley squares his shoulders back. “What’s your fucking problem?”  
“Yeah, I’m straight,” Jacob says, but his voice cracks and he drops his gaze to the ground.   
“Me too.” Finley narrows his eyes. “Listen, you can fuck guys and still be straight.”  
Harry rolls his eyes. “I started off with that mentality. I identify as gay now, just so you know. So you might want to rethink that whole straight thing, because you fucking Jacob sounds pretty gay to me.”  
Finley scowls. “Whatever.”  
“Come here.” Harry grabs his shoulder. When Finley doesn’t budge, he yanks him to the side. “Come here.”  
Harry drags him around the corner, and Finley pushes his chest.   
“What the fuck are you doing?”  
“Stop fucking Jacob,” Harry spits out. “This isn’t good for either of you.”  
“You don’t even know me.” Finely balls his hands into fists. “You don’t know Jacob. Stay the fuck out of our business.”  
He goes to walk away, but Harry fists his hand in his shirt and shoves him against the wall.  
“Listen to me. Jacob isn’t straight, okay? I saw the way he looks at you and I saw the way he reacted when I called you two out,” Harry says. “I don’t know what he identifies as, but he’s not straight. And he’s also in love with you.”  
Finley takes a step back. “He’s not in love with me, so back the fuck off.”  
“Keep thinking that.” Harry snorts. “But just think about how he acts with you. It’s more than just sex for him, and somewhere in here”—Harry pokes him in the chest—“you feel the exact same way.”  
“Yeah? And what do you know about broken hearts?” Finley asks.   
“You think I haven’t gone through shit?” Harry demands. “I have. I fucking have. I fucked tons of guys, and I hurt them all and I hurt myself. I know what you’re doing, Finley, and it isn’t some game. You’re playing with his heart and you’re damaging yourself. So just fucking stop, alright? Stop before someone gets hurt worse than they already have.”  
Finley stays quiet, and Harry shoves him against the wall again for good measure. Finley stays pressed against it long after Harry’s walked away.   
…  
Harry isn’t even in Zayn’s apartment five minutes before he’s being interrogated. He takes a giant bite of pizza and settles into the couch cushion.   
“What the hell happened today?” Zayn asks. “What the hell happened to you?”  
A sly grin spreads over Harry’s lips and he takes a sip of his beer.   
“I took care of business,” he responds.   
“What’s that supposed to mean?”  
“Oh, I don’t know.” Harry shrugs, but his expression is coy. “Let’s just say that Finley and Jacob could be a thing soon.”  
Zayn’s eyes widen. “Harry, what the fuck happened?”  
“Like I said, I took care of business,” Harry says. “You’ll find out soon enough.”  
“Jesus,” Zayn mutters. “I can’t believe you. You turned Straight Finley into Gay Finley.”  
“I didn’t turn Finley gay. I just helped him realize his true self,” Harry says, then bursts out laughing. “I scared the shit out of him, you should have seen his face.”  
“What did you say?” Zayn asks.  
“I told him that Jacob’s in love with him, and that I knew he felt the same way,” Harry says. “I told him that he needs to stop having meaningless sex with Jacob because it means something so much more than just a fuck for him.”  
Zayn’s quiet for a moment. “Who broke your heart?”  
Harry laughs, but it’s empty, and the sound gives Zayn chills.   
“I used to be nothing but another Finley. But then I picked the wrong person to sleep with I fucked up real bad,” Harry says. “I haven’t had sex since I was twenty three.”  
Zayn scoots closer to him. “I could change that.”  
Harry shoots him a look. “Zayn?”  
Zayn reaches out and squeezes his thigh, and Harry’s breath hitches, but it isn’t in a good way.   
“Zayn,” he says again, sharper this time.   
Zayn yanks his and away. “Shit. Harry, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”  
“I don’t do sex, okay?” Harry says. “I just—I don’t do sex.”  
“I’m sorry,” Zayn says again. “My girlfriend broke up with me a little while ago, and I just get so lonely sometimes.”  
“Shit,” Harry mutters. He runs his fingers through his hair and sighs. “I don’t do sex, but if I kiss you, will you feel slightly less heartbroken?”  
Zayn wipes the tears from his eyes and nods. “Please.”  
“O-okay.”   
Harry inches forward so his hand is on Zayn’s knee, and he gently presses his palm to his cheek. He leans in so his nose brushes against Zayn’s, and then he surges so that his lips are moving against his and his tongue is in Zayn’s mouth.   
Harry cups his cheeks and presses closer, and Zayn makes a noise in the back of his throat. Everything feels like it’s in slow motion for a second, but then things snap into focus and Harry pulls back, wide eyed.   
“Shit,” Harry mutters. “Shit. I shouldn’t have done that. I really shouldn’t have.”  
“Why did we do that?” Zayn practically whispers. “Why did we do that?”  
He repeats the phrase almost like a mantra and Harry reaches out to put his arms around his shoulders.   
“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “It happened, it’s okay. We’re still okay.”  
Zayn turns his face into Harry’s chest and lets out a shuddering sob. Harry just rubs his shoulders and keeps his eyes clenched shut.  
“Can we just get high?” Zayn asks.   
Harry sighs. “Sure. Whatever you need.”  
…  
It’s first break, and Louis sitting on the bench in the back of the kitchen with Niall, taking sips from his bottle of rum.   
“I’m going to do it,” he says. “I’m going to ask Harry out today.”  
Niall raises his eyebrows. “Look at you, becoming the master romancer.”  
“Shut up.” Louis wacks him in the shoulder, and Niall snickers.   
“So. What’s the plan?” Niall asks.  
“Plan?” Louis crinkles his nose.   
“Yeah, plan. You can’t just walk in there without a plan,” Niall says.  
“Shit, that’s right,” Louis says under his breath. “Can I practice on you?”  
Niall snorts. “I don’t think I’m the best person to ask, but sure. Go for it.”  
“Thanks.” Louis hands him the rum bottle and stands in front of him. “Be prepared to get fake wooed.”  
“Jesus.” Niall mutters, his face going red with his laughter.   
Louis clears his throat. “Harry, I like you, and I’ve been thinking about this for a while now. So, can I take you out on a date?”  
Niall stares at him with a blank expression, and then he bursts out laughing. He laughs so hard that he doubles over, and Louis’ face goes bright red.   
“Okay, mate, not to be overly judgemental, but that was complete shit,” he says. “We’re doing this another way. I’m going to be you, and you’re going to be Harry.”  
“Okay.” Louis brushes his hair out of his face and waits for Niall to speak.   
“Hey, Harry,” Niall says, stepping closer to Louis. “Are you free this week? Because I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me sometime.”  
“That’s good,” Louis says. “How was that so good?”  
Niall shrugs. “I told you, catfishing people makes you pretty good at the first date stuff.”  
“Touché.”  
Niall pats him on the shoulder. “Just be casual. It’s not overly difficult.”  
“I’m going to ask him on next break,” Louis says.   
“He’s usually with Zayn, so if you’re prepared for that,” Niall replies.   
“I am,” Louis declares. He gets up and smooths out his shirt. “I’m going to get back to work. Next time you see me, I’m going to have a date with Harry.   
Niall chuckles. “Alright, Lou. I’m holding you to that.”  
…  
Louis’ running his hands through his hair as he turns the corner. He hasn’t been to the shipment zone since Niall faked a stomach ache, and he’s almost forgotten his way around. But then he smells smoke, and he remembers Zayn’s corner and what Niall said about Harry’s break times, and so he follows the smell until he reaches the corner.   
He has a smile on his face, but then he turns the corner and his face falls when he sees the sight in front of him.  
“What the hell?”  
Harry jumps back from where his lips were pressed into Zayn’s. He glances back and forth between the two, and he pinches the bridge of his nose.   
“Louis.” Harry has his stern tone on, and Louis shakes his head.   
“No, it’s okay. We’re not a thing. I just fucking like you, and I was here to ask you on a date, but you didn’t know that. It’s okay,” Louis says, bite to this tone.   
“Louis,” Harry hisses. “Stop.”  
“No,” Louis snaps. “You’re always staring at me, giggling at my jokes. You touch my arms or press your thigh against mine at lunch. I thought you had some feelings for me, but I guess not. And that’s okay. Have fun with Zayn. I hope you two are happy together.”  
He spins on his heels and walks away, and Harry slams his palms against the bricks.   
“Fuck,” he curses. “Fuck.”  
“He’s going to tell Niall, and Niall’s going to tell Liam.” Zayn covers his face with his hand. “Shit.”  
“I’m not kissing you anymore,” Harry says. “I never should have started kissing you.”  
“I second that,” Zayn says. “I’m pretty sure I like Liam.”  
“We all saw that coming.” Harry chuckles. “And anyway, I know that I like Louis.”  
“We all saw that coming,” Zayn mocks, and Harry playfully shoves him in the shoulder.   
“I think we should get back to worry,” Harry says.   
“I’m going to stay here for a bit, finish this, clear my head.” Zayn holds up the cigarette he’d been smoking. “I’ll catch up to you.”  
“No hard feelings, right?”  
“Never.” Zayn smiles.   
Harry smiles back. “Good.”  
…  
At the end of the day, Harry intercepts Liam as he’s coming out of the locker room. He grabs his arm and offers a smile to let him know that this is purely friendly.   
“Can I talk to you for a second?” Harry asks.   
“Sure,” Liam replies. He follows Harry back into the locker room for some privacy, and he leans against the sink. “What’s up?”  
“You know relationships, right?”   
Liam blinks in surprise. “Uh, I guess? Why?”  
“I messed up,” Harry admits. “I’ve been trying to flirt with Louis, but I’m no good with relationships and I wasn’t doing it right. And then I kissed Zayn and Louis caught me. But that’s the thing, he was going to ask me out when he caught us kissing.”  
“You kissed Zayn?” Liam looks shocked, but Harry also catches the hint of jealously in his eyes and supresses a smirk.   
“Yes. Three times. Can we move on?” Harry raises an eyebrow.   
“Y-yeah, of course.” Liam stumbles over his words, and Harry smiles, amused.   
“Good,” he says.   
“You like Louis, then? And you need some advice?” Liam asks.   
“Precisely,” Harry responds.   
“First of all, you need to stop kissing Zayn,” Liam says.  
“I know that. I’m not going to kiss him anymore,” Harry replies.   
“Good. The second thing you need to do is flirt with Louis some more,” Liam says. “But not like before. You need to be more open this time.”  
Surprisingly, Harry goes red.   
“See, that’s the problem,” he says. “I’m not good with relationships. I only had one, and it was very short lived. I’ve had a lot of sex instead of relationships.”  
“Make this different.” Liam pats him on the shoulder, as if the answer is obvious, and Harry groans.   
“I thought you’d be better at this,” he says.  
Liam snorts. “Amy asked me out, just so you know. I’m not exactly the first date expert.”  
“That’s untraditional. I like that,” Harry says.   
“Thanks.” Liam smiles.   
“How did Amy ask you then?” Harry asks.   
“Honestly? She just asked me,” Liam replies. “She literally said that she liked me and wanted to go out on a real date, and I accepted.”  
“That was it? You were dating after that?”   
Liam shrugs. “Pretty much.”  
“Alright,” Harry mutters. “Thanks for the talk.”  
“Anytime.”   
…  
Harry’s hidden behind the corner of the shipment yard. He glances around, double checking that he’s not being watched, and then he sprints across the yard. He’s about to cross over to the main walkway, but he hears voices, and he presses himself against the wall so that he can’t be detected.   
“I don’t want to just fuck you anymore.” Finley.  
Harry twists so he’s facing them. They’re completely oblivious to his presence, and Harry pauses to watch them for a few moments.   
The two of them are sitting cross legged on the ground, facing each other. Jacob has his head bowed, and Finley reaches out to brush the back of his knuckles over Jacob’s cheek.   
“I want to take you out on a real date,” he says. “I want to be a real boyfriend to you. I’m tired of just being your fuck buddy.”  
“I thought you were straight,” Jacob remarks quietly.   
Finley smiles sadly. “I never wanted to be gay. I repressed it and I pretended that I didn’t even feel that way about guys anymore. But I don’t want to repress it anymore. I want to be your boyfriend, and I want to be as gay as can be.”  
Jacob snorts, a smile gracing his lips. “Okay.”  
“Okay.” Finley studies his face for a few moments, his lips parted. “Why did you pretend to be straight?”  
Jacob’s smile falters, and he looks to the ground.   
“Because I’ve always been scared of coming out,” Jacob says. “I’m bisexual, Fin. I was afraid that no one was going to take me seriously.”   
“I’m taking you seriously.” Finley takes his hands and squeezes them, and Jacob accepts the gesture with a sound of contentment. For a second, Harry questions what he’s still doing here. He knows that this is too intimate to see, too personal, but he can’t look away.  
“My mum didn’t,” Jacob confesses. “She told me that I’m just confused. She doesn’t think that bisexuality is a thing.”  
“She’s wrong,” Finely says. “Your sexuality is valid, and it’s real.”  
“I know.” The smile returns to Jacob’s face. “I think I love you.”  
Finley brushes kisses across his knuckles, his eyes locked on Jacob.   
“I think I love you, too,” he says softly. Shyly.   
Harry begins to really feel like he’s intruding, and he tears his eyes away. He manages to sneak away without being seen, and then he’s off towards the kitchen without a thought spared towards his job and the penalties he could face.   
He sneaks in through the kitchen’s back entrance, where the stock is located. Jaime is picking up a pot of potatoes when he notices Harry, and he nods towards the direction of the cooking station.   
“He’s in there.”  
“Thanks,” Harry mutters.   
He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip as he enters the kitchen. The smell hits him all at once, and it’s his gag that alters Louis of his presence.   
He turns around and smiles when he sees Harry. He sets down the tray of beans he was carrying and steps closer.   
“Hey,” he says. “What are you doing here?”  
Harry shrugs. “I wanted to see you.”  
“Oh.” Louis blinks in surprise. “I thought you’d rather be around Zayn than me.”   
“Louis.” Harry sighs. “I didn’t even get a chance to explain what happened. You’ve been ignoring me for days.”  
“Because you hurt me,” Louis snaps. “You led me on, and if I hadn’t found you kissing Zayn, you would have continued to act like you like me.”  
“I don’t like Zayn,” Harry says. “He was hurting, and he was lonely, so I kissed him.”  
Louis narrows his eyes. “How many times?”  
“Three,” Harry mumbles. “But the first time was an accident. We were trying to shotgun and we fucked up.”  
“Why am I so jealous? You can kiss whoever the fuck you want, I’m not your boyfriend,” Louis huffs.   
Harry presses his palm against Louis’ cheek. “You could be, once we figure this shit out.”  
Louis snorts, but he doesn’t push Harry away.   
“What kind of pick up line was that?” Louis demands, his eyebrows raised in amusement.   
“The good kind, hopefully,” Harry replies.   
Louis laughs, and he moves Harry’s hand from his cheek, but he keeps their fingers twined.   
“You’re not good at this,” Louis says, smile on his face. “It’s cute.”  
Harry cheeks turn pink. “You think I’m cute?”  
Louis bites his lip. “Yeah. What are you gonna do about that?”  
“I could ask you out on a date,” Harry replies.   
Louis shakes his head in amusement.   
“Okay, but you better make this a damn good date,” Louis says. “Now get back to work, we’ll talk at lunch.”  
Harry grins. “Friday at seven. Wear something nice.”  
“I like chicken!” Louis calls after him.   
Harry laughs. He’s still chuckling as he enters his work sight, oblivious to everything around him, and he smacks right into Zayn. He’s got his arms crossed, an unamused expression on his face. Harry swears under his breath.   
“Alright, lay it on me,” Harry says.   
“I don’t need to know where you were. I just want to make one of my rules clear: don’t slack off.”  
Harry narrows his eyes. “So this is how it’s gonna be? Now that I’ve stopped making out with you you’re going to turn into an asshole?”  
“That’s not what’s happening,” Zayn snaps. “I’ve always been a dick, and so have you. And I don’t even like you, so get your head out of your ass.”  
Harry rolls his eyes. “You want what you can’t have. That’s why you were so into kissing me, that’s why you’re into Liam. You’re not going to get it from me.”  
“Fuck off.” Zayn shoves him in the chest, hard. “You don’t know shit about me. I don’t want anything from you. I want you to do your fucking job and get out of my way.”  
“You weren’t saying that when you begged me to kiss you,” Harry spits.   
“At least I didn’t fuck up my only chance with someone that would like me,” Zayn seethes.   
“You’re pining over a guy who’s fucked the same girl for two years. At least I have a shot,” Harry fires back.  
It’s Zayn who throws the first punch, but Harry hits him back even harder. Soon they’re grappling on the ground, a mess of blood and sweat and tears. Zayn keeps throwing punches and he hits Zayn right in the nose, but Zayn throws three quick punches, and Harry feels blood dripping from his lip.   
Then the wait of Zayn is gone from his chest, and Harry rolls onto his side to curl into himself.  
“Okay, okay, break it up.”  
It’s Niall, and he sounds very close to Harry’s ear. He opens his eyes and he sees Niall hovering over him while Tyler has his arms wrapped tightly around Zayn to restrain him. Liam is standing behind them, his lip sunken into his teeth as he watches the scene. He looks scared. Harry thinks he should be.   
“I don’t know what happened, but it better not happen again,” Niall says. He’s got his warning tone on. Harry doesn’t like how it sounds when it’s used on him.   
“It won’t, as long as he learns to keep his damn mouth shut.” Zayn spits on the ground, and Harry’s lips twist into a snarl.   
“Watch it, Malik.” He spits out the blood that’s rapidly filling his mouth. “Or I’ll tell Liam just what we got up to.”  
“You go there, and I’ll tell Louis that I fucked you,” Zayn says, his eyebrows raised. “I’ll tell him that you moaned all pretty, that you came hard. For me.”  
Harry narrows his eyes. “You wouldn’t.”  
“I would, don’t doubt that for a second,” Zayn hisses in response. “And if you think he’s going to want you after that, you’re wrong. Face it, Styles. You’re my bitch.”  
He spits on the ground once more and twists out of Tyler’s arms. He storms away, and it takes Harry a moment to realize he can’t deny it.  
He groans.   
…  
Harry grips the edge of the countertop, glaring at his reflection in the mirror. His hair flops uselessly over his forehead, and he pokes angrily at the pimples on his chin and around his nose. Of all days for lack of cooperation, his face picked the day of his and Louis’ date. Of course.   
With a sigh, he grabs the bottle of hair gel from under the sink and eyes the label. He’s had it for a few years and it’s surely expired by now. Truthfully, he had forgotten that it was even there.   
Shrugging, he squirts some onto his palm and uses it to push his fringe off of his forehead. It’s styled over to one side and looks slightly better than before. Harry smiles tightly in triumph.   
His face falls again when he remembers his acne. It hasn’t been bad in a while, but the mixture of greasy shelter food and stress haven’t been the best for his skin. He considers popping them, but that would just make them look worse. He frowns as he smooths out his clothes, and the he grabs his keys and heads out the door.   
Harry’s at Louis’ apartment complex after a quick detour. He has his hands behind his back as he waits for Louis to open the door, rocking back and forth nervously on the balls of his feet.   
When Louis opens the door, he has a smile stretched over his lips. Harry gives him a once over, but he doesn’t feel that twist in his stomach that he knows he’s supposed to.   
“You look nice,” he says, because Louis does.   
“You too,” Louis replies. “Really good.”  
Harry blushes. “Oh.”  
They stare at each other for a few more seconds before Harry clears his throat and brings the flowers he bought out from behind his back. Louis’ eyes widen in surprise, and he meets Harry’s, the shock never leaving his face.   
“These are for you,” Harry says shyly.   
“Harry, what the hell?”  
His face falls. “Oh. I thought—I thought it was romantic. I’m sorry if it’s stupid. I’m not good at dating.”  
Louis shakes his head, smiling. “It’s cute how hard you’re trying. I’m endeared.”  
Harry’s cheeks turn even pinker with embarrassment, but the butterflies are still non-existent. His eyebrows furrow in confusion because isn’t he supposed to feel something sexual? Or at least think it?  
“We should get going. I’ve got reservations,” Harry says.   
“Oh, fancy.” Louis holds out his hand, and it takes Harry a second to figure out that Louis wants him to hold it.   
The whole romance thing is not his specialty.   
Louis sets the flowers on the hall table and then closes the door to his apartment. He gives Harry’s hand a squeeze, and then they’re heading down the hallway and out to Harry’s car.   
“So, where are we headed?” Louis asks once they pull out of the complex.   
“I can’t remember the name of the place, but it’s real nice. And I made sure to check that they had chicken because I remembered that it’s your favourite,” Harry replies.   
Louis snorts. “God. You are so different from the guys I’ve dated.”  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry’s heart sinks, and he glances at Louis.  
Louis reaches over to squeeze Harry’s thigh. He doesn’t move his hand, keeps it on Harry’s leg.   
“It means that I like you,” Louis says.   
“Oh,” Harry mutters, lips twitching with a smile.   
It falls silent, but not one of those weird silences. It’s the comfortable type, where each other’s presence is enough and it never gets awkward. Harry smiles to himself.  
The restaurant is quaint, tucked into the back corner of the shopping plaza. There’s a Tesco’s across the street, the same one Louis got high with Niall and Zayn behind, and he can’t help but laugh at the memory.   
“What is it?” Harry asks. He sounds alarmed.  
“Nothing.” Louis shakes his head, smile still stretched across his lips. “I was just thinking about something I did with Zayn and Niall before you came to the shelter. We got high here”— he points to the field across the street—“and it was pretty fun.”  
Harry purses his lips, nodding. “Sounds like a good time. You should invite me to these hangouts every often.”  
“I will,” Louis promises him, his tone genuine. He squeezes Harry’s thigh. “Let’s go, we don’t want to miss your reservation.”  
“Right.”  
Harry’s very aware of himself as they walk into the restaurant. He’s conscious of where his arms are hanging and how loud his footsteps fall and the way Louis keeps looking at him from the corner of his eye.   
“Do you have a reservation?” Asks the woman at the counter.   
Harry clears his throat. “Styles.”  
“Alright, follow me.”  
She leads them to table at the far corner of the restaurant and hands them two menus before she’s off. Remembering what his sister taught him about first date etiquette, Harry pulls out Louis’ chair for him before he takes his own seat.  
He opens the menu and glances over the options a few times. Their waiter comes to take their order a few minutes later, and Harry takes a sip of water with shaky hands.   
“How long are you at the shelter for?” Louis asks.   
“Three hundred hours, I think,” Harry says. “But I don’t want to talk about that. You know this.”  
“Sorry.” Louis clears his throat. “You can tell me, though. Like, I’m trustworthy.”  
“I’m sure you are,” Harry mutters. He tries to keep his tone neutral.   
Louis senses the change in his expression and nods to himself.   
“Have you made up with Zayn yet?” Louis asks instead of the questions that are truly plaguing him. Questions like what did you do? and why don’t you talk about what you did?  
Harry eyes him. “What did Zayn tell you?”  
“Nothing.” Louis narrows his eyes. “Liam mentioned that you guys really got into it, and you’ve been sitting on opposite sides of the lunch table since Tuesday. What’s up with that?”  
“Nothing. It’s nothing,” Harry replies. “We didn’t fight over anything important. We’ll be fine. Anyway, let’s talk about you. When did you move to London?”  
“When I was about twenty. I got into a community college and I studied there for a few years,” Louis says.   
“You didn’t want to go on to uni?” Harry asks.   
Louis shrugged. “I did, but I didn’t get the chance because I got tossed into the system. And now I don’t have the money after my lawyer fees.”  
“I’m lucky, I guess. I got most of my schooling done,” Harry says. “I was studying to be a teacher.”  
“A teacher?” Louis repeats, dumbfounded. “I certainly didn’t peg you to be the teaching type.”  
Harry shrugs. “Well, like you, I also had a lot of court fees. Finishing school doesn’t seem possible anymore.”  
“My ex-boyfriend was studying to become a doctor,” Louis says. “A surgeon, I think. I don’t know what he’s making of that goal.”  
“Ah, nice,” Harry remarks slyly. He does not like the idea of Louis with another guy, not one bit. “What do you hope to accomplish?”  
Louis snorts. “I have no fucking clue. I like music. I’ve always wanted to do something with that. Teach it, or something.”  
Harry pauses to thank their waiter as he sets the food down on the table, and then he resumes his full attention on Louis.   
“What do you play?” He asks.   
“Piano, guitar. I played flute in elementary school. I could probably still play it if I tried,” Louis responds. “But piano is my favourite. I’d love to teach that.”  
“Get a degree in music, get qualified. You’ll be doing lessons in no time.” Harry smiles encouragingly, and Louis squeezes his hand in a silent thanks.   
“How’s your dinner?” He asks.   
“It’s good, thanks,” Harry replies. “How’s yours?”  
“Good. Thank you for bringing me out. This is nice,” Louis says.   
“Yeah,” Harry agrees, smiling. “We should do this again.”  
“We should.” Louis smiles, too. “So. What would you teach?”  
“I’m into languages,” Harry tells him. “I’d like to teach them.”  
“How many can you speak?” Louis asks.   
Harry flushes red. “A few.”  
“Oh, don’t be shy.” Louis’ hand lingers on his. “Tell me. I’m sure it’s impressive.”  
“I’m fluent in four languages—English, French, Spanish, and German,” Harry says. He’s still blushing. “I studied languages in university. I was learning Italian before I got incarcerated. I hope to become fluent in that, too.”  
“Jesus Christ, I was right. That is impressive,” Louis says. “For fuck’s sake, that’s so cool.”  
Harry goes even redder. “Thanks.”  
“What are you going to learn after you become fluent in Italian?” Louis asks.   
“Portuguese, maybe. But I do want to learn Japanese or Mandarin,” Harry says. “I just love languages.”  
“I can tell.” Louis grins. “What’s your favourite?”  
“German, but it was the hardest to learn. The easiest was Spanish,” Harry says. “Anyway, enough of the school talk. What’s your family like?”  
Louis shrugs as he takes a bite of chicken. “I’ve got six siblings. Five sisters, one brother. I’m the oldest. Haven’t seen them since I moved to London, and that was five years ago.”  
Harry makes one of those pity faces. “I’m sorry. That must be hard.”  
Louis shrugs. “It is what it is. What about you? Sisters? Brothers?”  
“Older sister,” Harry replies. “She lives in London with her husband and their daughter. We don’t see each other much. We live two completely different lives.”  
“Does that mean she’s the long-term love type and you’re into quick flings?” Louis asks jokingly, but there’s seriousness behind the question.   
“Something like that.”   
Harry doesn’t feel like correcting him, doesn’t feel like telling him the truth. It’s too painful to think about most of the time, and today is no exception.  
Harry shovels the last few pieces of his meal into his mouth and glances to Louis’ plate. He’s relieved to find him finished as well so he can move into phase two of Operation Best Date Ever. And no, that’s not at all conceited.   
“Do you want desert?” Harry asks.   
Louis shakes his head. “Too full.”  
“Good.” Harry looks around for their waiter. “We’re going to get the check and go. There’s something else we’re doing.”  
“Oh, is there?” Louis raises his eyebrows teasingly.   
Harry grins. “Oh, there is.”  
…  
Louis is bouncing with anticipation by the time Harry arrives at the surprise destination. He gasps when he takes in the music shop, and he turns to Harry with wide eyes.   
“You meant what you said,” he says to himself.   
“You’ll learn quickly that I always mean what I say.” Harry presses his palm to Louis’ thigh. “Come on, let’s get your music education on.”  
“Fine, but only if you allow me to get you into classic rock,” Louis says.   
“Fine.”  
Louis slides out of Harry’s car and slams the door shut. He waits for him at the front of the car, and he holds his hand out for Harry. He ignores it, but Louis’ heart doesn’t even have a chance to sink before Harry’s arm is wrapped around his waist. Louis smiles.   
“Have you ever been here before?” Harry asks, pressing his thumb into Louis’ hipbone. He gestures to the orange neon sign that reads Mikey’s Music.  
Louis shakes his head. “Never. I download most of my stuff.”  
Harry shoots him a look. “Nothing beats records. You need more records.”  
“So what, you don’t have music on your phone? Do you just carry around your damn record player everywhere?” Louis raises his eyebrows.   
Harry snorts and reaches for the door.   
“I do download things. I just prefer records,” Harry says. “So does my sister. It was our thing, I guess.”  
Louis smiles, and in a spur of the moment decision, he leans up to kiss Harry on the cheek.   
“That’s sweet,” he murmurs.   
“Thanks,” Harry replies, voice soft. He kisses Louis on the side of the head, and then he drops his arms to reach for an album. Louis clears his throat.   
He slips behind Harry, leaning his chin on Harry’s shoulder. He squeezes Harry’s biceps and rubs his hands up and down. Harry hesitates for a moment, and then he holds out the record.   
Harry turns his head, and he’s surprised at how close their faces are. Louis’ nose brushes against his, and Harry’s eyes flutter shut with anticipation. Louis leans up a bit, and then his lips are pressed into Harry’s.  
Harry’s heard a lot about first kisses. How it’s supposed to feel like fireworks are going off in your head, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. He feels none of that.   
He never has. Not with anyone he’d ever been in a relationship with. And somehow, he thought it would be different the first time he kissed Louis, but it isn’t.   
Harry presses closer, and then he pulls back as quickly as the kiss began. Louis has red cheeks, and it’s obvious by the way he’s biting his lip that Harry’s missing something. He clears his throat and passes the record to Louis.   
“You Are Free. Cat Power put it out in 2003,” Harry says. He hands Louis another album. “And this is the new Mumford and Sons album. If you only listen to one thing, this should be the thing.”  
“Okay.” Louis chuckles. He looks up at Harry and tilts his chin up. He leans closer, but Harry turns his head away instead of meeting him halfway. Kissing has always felt a bit odd.   
“You need to pick up Queen and David Bowie and Greenday. Oh, and Black Sabbath. I will force you to listen to that,” Louis states, matter-o-fact.  
Harry laughs. “Alright, Lou.”  
Louis smiles at him. The nickname that sounds so awful from Niall’s lips sounds good when it comes from Harry. He likes it.   
“Come on, let’s pay for these and get out of here.” Harry gestures towards the cash. “You should come back to my place after. You can spend the night, I’ll take you out to breakfast in the morning.”  
Louis grins slyly. “Is that code for sex?”  
“It could be.” Harry raises an eyebrow, but inside he wants to run away. There was a time where sex felt good. Now he’s not too sure.   
“Okay.” Louis leans up to kiss him quickly on the lips. “Let’s get out of here.”  
…  
Harry hasn’t been this nervous since freshman year of high school. Slowly, he unlocks the door to his apartment and leads Louis inside. He stands by the door awkwardly as Louis toes his shows off, and then he snaps out of his trance.   
“Well, this is my place,” Harry says.   
“It smells good in here. What air fresheners do you use?” Louis asks.   
It’s such a genuine question and for some reason, it has Harry laughing. He pulls Louis close by the hips and kisses him.   
“My sister works weekends at Yankee Candle. She sends me stuff every couple of months,” Harry says between kisses. “I’ve got a shit ton of candles.”  
Louis holds up the bag from Mikey’s Music.   
“Where’s your record player?”  
“In my bedroom,” Harry answers.   
“How about we go there?” Louis suggests teasingly. “I’ll light a few candles while you put in that Mumford and Sons album. Then we’ll dance. I want to dance with you.”  
“Okay,” Harry breathes out.   
“Show me the way.”  
Harry grabs his hand and leads him down the narrow hallway and into his bedroom. He opens his desk drawer and tosses Louis a black Bic lighter, and he points to the candles lining the shelves.   
“Light the first two,” he says.   
Harry rips the packaging open on the album and pops it into the record player. The soft aroma of lavender and honey candles has already seeped into the air; it’s soothing, and it reminds Harry of his sister.   
He turns around as the first track starts to play. He’s about to speak, but Louis pushes him onto the bed, and everything he was thinking of escapes him as Louis straddles his waist.   
“I thought we were going to dance,” Harry says breathlessly.   
“I’d rather make out with you,” Louis replies. He kisses Harry hard on the mouth, his hands braced beside his head. His tongue brushes across the seam of Harry’s lips, and he pulls back a little. “Maybe suck you off. I give good head.”  
Harry closes his eyes as Louis’ fingers fumble with the button on his jeans.   
“Okay,” he murmurs.   
Louis tugs his jeans and boxers down his legs, and then he curls his fingers around the base of Harry’s dick. He kitten licks the tip, and then he ducks down and takes him into his mouth. Louis swallows around him and pulls back to suckle on the tip, and he strokes his hand along what isn’t in his mouth.   
He bobs his head as he sucks, and Harry lets out a drawn out moan. It feels good, he can appreciate that, but something about the whole thing feels wrong. Still, he focuses on shutting his brain and just feeling.   
“Gonna come, Lou,” he warns, gasping.   
Louis sucks harder, his tongue wriggling insistently against the underside of his cock. Harry lets out a groan, his lips bucking up and his knuckles going white from his grip on the sheets as he comes in hot spurts down Louis’ throat.   
“Fuck, Louis,” he moans, his voice barely an octave above a whisper. “Take your clothes off.”  
“Eager, much?” Except Louis isn’t laughing. He tugs his shirt over his head and tosses it onto the floor, and Harry does the same. Before Louis can get to his pants, Harry is attacking him, shimmying them down his legs.   
Harry spits into his hand and wraps it around Louis’ cock. Louis gasps at the rough slide of it, and he turns his head to press his lips to Harry’s. He whines against Harry’s mouth and bucks up into his fist, and he comes with a loud moan a few minutes later.   
“Fuck. Fuck, Harry,” he whispers.   
Harry kisses him softly on the mouth, and he rolls so his back is against Louis’ chest. He reaches for the box of tissues on the nightstand to clean off the come on his hand, and then he passes the box back to Louis.   
“I like to be the little spoon,” he explains upon seeing Louis’ confused expression. “I like to cuddle.”  
Louis’ expression softens.   
“Let me pee first, I’ll be right back,” he says.   
“The bathroom’s in the room beside us,” Harry tells him. “Blow out the candles when you leave?”  
“Sure.”  
Louis digs around in the mess of clothes littering the floor until he locates his phone. He blows out the candles on the way to the bathroom, and he locks the door behind him.   
After he empties his bladder, he glances at his phone. There’s a string of texts from Liam that he sent a few hours ago, and Louis’ bites his lip in guilt.   
“Amy left me. I came home and her stuff was gone.”  
“She left with her ex. Fuck, Louis.”  
“Hello? Are you there?”  
“I want Zayn. Why do I want Zayn?”  
“I called him. Holy shit, Louis, I called him, and now I’m going to his house.”  
Louis sends him a quick text:  
“Sorry I wasn’t on, was out with Harry. Call me in the morning and tell me what happened.”  
He scrubs his hands over his face in distress. He leaves his phone on the counter and goes back to Harry’s room. He curls up behind him and slings his arm over his waist, and Harry lets out a quiet sigh.  
“Everything okay? You seem tense.”  
“I’m fine,” Louis replies tightly. “Just Liam.”  
“Anything important?” Harry asks.   
“Amy cheated on him and she left to go be with the guy she cheated with. Who, by the way, happens to be her ex. And now Liam is at Zayn’s. He’s probably spending the night,” Louis says.   
“Shit,” Harry mutters.   
“Indeed.”  
Shit is right.


	3. Chapter 3

When Louis wakes up in the morning, Harry’s hair is in his mouth and there’s drool on his pillow. The sunlight is casting a soft glow across Harry’s face, and Louis gently kisses him on the cheek before he rolls out of bed.  
He takes a quick piss before he checks his phone. It’s already after eleven, and there’s three missed calls from Liam. He sighs and dials his number, and Liam picks up just as the voicemail almost kicks in.   
“Hey, Louis.” He sounds miserable.   
“Liam, what the hell happened?” Louis asks.   
“I came home from the shelter and all of her stuff was gone apart from two boxes. There was a note on the counter, and I guess I wasn’t supposed to be home yet because the next thing I knew, Amy and Matt were coming through the door to get the last of her stuff,” Liam says.   
“Matt’s her ex?” Louis asks.   
“Yep.”  
“What happened after that?” Louis presses. He grips the edge of the counter.   
“Matt glared at me, and Amy just pretended like I wasn’t there. I don’t know what she’s been telling Matt, but he hates me,” Liam tells him sadly. “She handed Matt a box and then she grabbed the last one, and they were gone.”  
“Did she say anything to you?” Louis asks. “Anything at all?”  
“Yeah, she did,” Liam whispers. “She told me I could keep the flat. She said that she left this month’s rent on the table and she paid the money to break the lease. Then she left.”  
“Jesus Christ,” Louis swears under his breath. “And that was it?”  
“That was it,” Liam confirms. “I tried to call you, but you didn’t pick up. So I called Zayn and he invited me over. I’m home now. I left after he went to sleep.”  
Louis sighs. “Why would you run out on him?”  
“We kissed, Louis, and he—he got me off. I don’t know what that means,” Liam tells him in a whisper. “I needed to be alone. I needed to think.”  
“How far did you get?” Louis asks. His tone is gentle, and Liam lets out a sort of sobbing sound.   
“Not very. I don’t know what any of this means. I’m in love with Amy, Louis, but I’ve also got a crush on Zayn and I feel guilty,” Liam confesses. “I’m not gay, I’m not.”  
“You don’t have to figure that out right now,” Louis says.   
“I miss Amy, Lou,” Liam confesses. He sounds like he’s crying.  
“I know, and you’re allowed to do that. You loved her.” Louis struggles to find the right words, and he sighs. “I went through a nasty breakup, too. In fact, we didn’t even officially breakup, we just lost contact. I didn’t have anyone to fall back on, either.”  
“Where are you going with this?” Liam asks.   
“I’m trying to reassure you and tell you that everything is going to be okay,” Louis says. “I know that this feels like the end of the world, and I know how much this hurts. But you’ve got your friends to lean on, and Zayn is really fucking into you, okay? So promise me that you won’t turn your back on him because your heart hurts.”  
Liam’s quiet for a moment. “I won’t.”  
“Louis?” Harry calls through the apartment.   
“Listen, I have to go,” Louis says. “I’ll come over tonight. We can have a breakup pity party. We’ll do anything you want.”  
“Okay.” Liam gives a watery laugh. “Bring alcohol.”  
“I will.” Louis chuckles. “Bye, Liam.”  
“Bye.”  
Louis locks his phone and presses the screen against his temple. Harry calls for him again, and when he doesn’t respond, Louis hears footfalls coming down the hallway. There’s a knock on the door and it opens before Louis even has a chance to react.   
“Hey,” Harry says quietly.   
“Hey,” Louis whispers.   
“Was that Liam?” Harry asks.   
“Yeah,” Louis answers. He sighs.  
Harry takes the phone from him and sets it on the counter. Then he intertwines their fingers and pulls Louis in for a kiss.   
“Why are you so upset?” Harry asks next. “It wasn’t your breakup.”  
“I know, I just—” Louis pauses, and when he looks up at Harry, he’s got tears in his eyes. “Memories, you know? But it’s not important right now.”  
Harry’s arms wind around his waist, his fingers locked at the base of his back.   
“You’re sure?” He asks.   
“Yeah, another time.” Louis forces a smile and kisses Harry on the cheek. “You’re deliciously naked. I’m gonna take a shower. Care to join me?”  
Harry leans in for another kiss.   
“Of course.”  
…  
“Thanks for coming,” Liam says. He accepts the bottle of wine Louis holds out to him and shuts the door.   
His eyes are red and puffy, and he’s got tear stains on his cheeks. Louis pulls him in for a one armed hug, and Liam buries his face in his neck.   
“How are you holding up?” Louis asks.   
Tears wet his skin, and Liam sniffles.   
“The pillow still smells like her hair,” he whispers.   
“I ordered pizza and wings on the way over,” Louis says.   
“You’re a lifesaver, Louis Tomlinson.”  
“Oh, I know.” Louis pats him on the back. “Come on, let’s get a nice buzz going.”   
Louis gets two wine glasses from Liam’s cabinet, and they settle side by side on the couch. He pours two glasses of wine and hands one over to Liam, who says his thank you by the soft smile that stretches across his lips.   
“Zayn went through a breakup not so long ago,” Louis says softly. Liam hums. “You should talk to him instead of running out on him.”  
“I don’t want to talk about Zayn right now,” Liam says.   
“Okay, okay, I respect that. But you should know that he cares about you. Like, a whole fucking lot,” Louis tells him.   
“Okay,” Liam snaps. “I don’t want to talk about relationships. I just want to hang out with one of my friends and cry a bit.”  
“Cry all you want,” Louis replies. “Crying is good, no judgement here.”  
“Thanks.” Liam leans his head on Louis’ shoulder, his eyes watering. Louis squeezes him close and lets him be.   
The food arrives twenty minutes into the movie, and by then, Liam’s eyes are even puffier from tears. Louis gets up to retrieve it for him, and he comes back into the room with plates and a two litre bottle of Sprite.   
“Here,” he says, handing Liam a glass. “I think we could use a break from alcohol.”  
Liam smiles sadly. “I don’t want to be drunk anymore.”  
Louis pats him on the shoulder. “You’ll sober up.”  
“I hate her,” Liam says. But then his face falls, and he starts crying all over again. “No, I don’t, I love her. I just want to hate her.”  
Louis sets his plate on the table and puts his arms around Liam.  
“Hey,” he begins softly. “You’ll get over her. You just have to keep an open mind.”  
“Don’t use your therapeutic bullshit on me.” Liam scowls. “I get it, Zayn’s into me. You don’t have to keep telling me.”  
“Infatuated, more like.” Louis snorts to himself.   
Liam rolls his eyes. “You’re horrible with breakups. Horrible.”  
“And?”  
“And you’re making me feel better. How does that work?” Liam asks, baffled.   
Louis laughs loudly. “It’s a secret, mate. I keep my charming ways under lock and key.”  
“You’re such an ass.” Liam chuckles. He pulls away from Louis and sits to his side instead so he can eat easier. “Thank you for being here. You’re making it better.”  
“Bet Zayn made it easier on you, considering he treated you to an orgasm,” Louis snips playfully.   
Liam smacks him in the shoulder. “You’re one to talk, you stayed over at Harry’s.”  
“Yeah, and I sucked him off and he got me off.” Louis says, completely casual. “But I didn’t run out on him. Care to talk about why you did?”  
“Because I was scared,” Liam snaps. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel when an attractive guy puts my dick in his mouth. I’ve identified as straight my whole life, never considered anything else. But then I met Zayn and that mentality obviously went to hell. Now I’m fucking confused.”  
“I knew I was gay at a very young age. I think I was eleven,” Louis says as he lays a comforting hand on Liam’s shoulder. “My mum talked about it because her brother was gay, and I never had anyone telling me that being gay was wrong. So I accepted it, came out, and things were easy.”  
“Thanks, but I don’t think you’re perfect sexuality story is going to help me,” Liam replies dryly.   
“You didn’t let me finish.” Louis pushes his shoulder. “I came out to everyone when I got to high school. I went from having acceptance from everyone who knew about my identity to literally everyone rejecting me. That was quite confusing, because I didn’t think anything was wrong with me.”  
“Get to the point, Louis.”  
“Point is, feeling confused is part of the process,” Louis tells him gently. “You’ll figure it out. And just so you know, not everyone knows young. I was lucky that way. My ex was unsure.”  
“Is that why you broke up?” Liam asks.   
Louis is quiet for a moment. “Something like that.”  
…  
The shipment deck is too quiet for Harry’s liking. He hangs his coat up on the rack and glances around in confusion. The locker room is only half full of backpacks, and there isn’t anyone in sight. Harry’s eyebrows furrow.   
He sits down on the bench and pulls his phone out. He hovers over his contact list, scrolling back and forth between Zayn and Louis before he decides to call Louis.   
“Missing me already?” Louis asks teasingly when he picks up. He drove Harry to the shelter this morning. They made out in his car.   
“Sure, believe what you want.” Harry chuckles. “I am calling you for a reason, though.”  
“Let me guess, you want to know why all the people working the trucks aren’t here?” Harry pictures him raising his eyebrows and smiles to himself.   
“Are you in my brain or something?” Harry laughs.   
“Maybe.” Louis chuckles. “Anyway, Hugo gives mornings off sometimes. It’s, like, court mandated.”  
“Then why did you bring me in today?” Harry asks.   
“Because you were sleepy and clingy this morning and you were way too cute to leave,” Louis says quietly. “I was hoping that you’d come hang out with me in the kitchen before your afternoon shift starts.”  
“With all of this talk it sounds like we’re dating,” Harry says.   
Louis hums. “Maybe so.”  
Harry pauses. “I’ll be there in five minutes.”  
He hangs up and shoves his phone into his backpack. He fluffs his hair in the mirror, and then he’s off to the kitchen.   
Jaime rolls his eyes when he sees him and drops his ladle into the large pot bubbling on the stove.   
“I’ll go get him,” he says.  
“Thanks.” Harry smiles.   
He bends down to tie his shoe, and when he stands back up, arms wrap around his waist. Louis nuzzles his face into Harry’s neck and he squeezes him around the middle, and Harry grabs his hands.   
“Hi,” he murmurs.   
“Hey,” Harry whispers back. He squeezes Louis’ hands.   
“I’m going to take my break. Why don’t you come to the back room with me? We could make out,” Louis says, hot breath fanning over Harry’s ear. He shivers.   
“Okay,” Harry replies shakily.   
Louis spins him around and grabs his hands. Jaime gives them a look.   
“You’re taking a break, aren’t you?” He asks coyly.   
“I am.”  
Louis’ already pulling Harry to the backroom. He shuts the door and pushes Harry up against it, crowding his space.   
“Was this the plan all along?” Harry asks.   
Louis grins, sucking a bruise into the underside of his jaw.   
“Maybe,” he answers slyly. He steals another kiss. “That okay?”  
“Mm,” Harry hums. “Yeah, that’s okay.”  
“Good.”  
Louis pushes him against the door hard, his hand cupping the back of his neck. His kisses are rough, a mess of tongue and spit and wandering hands.   
Louis kisses down his neck and then drops to his knees in front of Harry, fumbling with the zipper. Harry puts his hands on Louis’ shoulders, teeth sinking into his lips, and Louis mouths at his cock through his boxers.   
“I brought condoms,” Louis says, looking up at him. He pulls down Harry’s boxers so his cock springs free. “And lube. They’re in my wallet.”  
Harry pictures the foil squares, and his fingers clench in Louis’ shirt.   
“Wait.”  
He tugs at Louis’ shirt until he stands up, and he meets Louis’ eyes, seeing the utter confusion in them. He sighs.   
“I don’t want you to take this the wrong way,” Harry begins slowly, but Louis sighs and looks away.   
“You don’t want to have sex with me, right? That’s what you’re trying to tell me?” Louis asks. He gives Harry a look, one of his eyebrows raised, and Harry looks down at his flaccid dick hanging over the hem of his boxers.   
“Can I put my dick away before we talk?” He asks.   
Louis barely cracks a smile. Harry tucks himself away and pulls Louis closer by the hips, his arms loosely wrapped around his waist.   
“It’s not about you, I promise. This is me,” Harry says.  
Louis scoffs. “I’ve heard that before. I don’t want your bullshit. I get it, you’re not into me. Why didn’t you just tell me that?”  
He goes to pull away, but Harry yanks him back, keeping him close so they’re pressed chest to chest. His pants are still bunched around his knees.   
“I don’t know how to convince you otherwise, and maybe if I didn’t care about you I wouldn’t bother. But I do care, so I’m going to try.” Harry digs his fingers into his hips. “I’m into you, Louis, I am. Not like that, though, and that isn’t your fault. I’ve never felt that for anyone. I thought it would be different with you, but it’s not and that’s frustrating. The only reason I haven’t stopped is because it feels nice enough to continue.”  
Louis drops his gaze. “So what—you’re one of those people who aren’t into sex?”  
“I don’t know, maybe.” Harry lets out a long sigh. “Does this change anything?”  
“It shouldn’t, but it sort of does,” Louis admits sheepishly. “It feels like you don’t want me anymore.”  
“Hey, look at me.” Harry tilts his chin up, pressing his forehead against Louis’. “I have always wanted you, but not that way. As much as I want to, I can’t. Those feelings just don’t exist, and I’m sorry for that.”   
“Okay,” Louis says quietly.   
“Okay what?”   
“Nothing. Just okay,” Louis answers. “Labels are shit, right? Isn’t that what Zayn says?”  
“Yeah.” Harry presses his lips together. “I sort of like them. They make me feel like I belong somewhere.”  
“Yeah, but too many labels can take away your substance.” Louis brushes his thumb across his cheek.   
“If it means anything to you, I really like you,” Harry says.   
Louis smiles. “Course it means something. It means a lot. And for the record, I really like you, too.”  
“I don’t want a lot to change,” Harry begins, fidgeting. “I like to kiss—I like to kiss you. I don’t want that to change.”  
He goes to say more, but Louis interrupts him.   
“You don’t have to say it. We don’t have to get off with each other,” Louis says.   
“I wouldn’t mind once in a while,” Harry tells him, his voice soft. “Sex isn’t bad, it just feels weird.”  
“Repulsive?” Louis asks, desperately trying to understand.   
Harry shakes his head. “I’ve never found it repulsive. To me sex is a thing that I’ve always preferred not to think about, but it isn’t horrible.”  
“Do you ever—” Louis stops, but Harry raises an eyebrow.  
“Get myself off?” Harry asks. Louis’ blush confirms it. “I do. Most of the time it just feels like something I have to do to take care of myself, like brushing my teeth. It isn’t bad, it feels good.”  
Louis locks eyes with him.   
“Things are going to be different now,” he says.   
“They don’t have to be,” Harry says back.   
Louis shakes his head. “They will be. We’ve just been a hookup, or whatever. What are we without that?”  
“Well, we could be friends. Or we could be dating,” Harry says. “Personally I think dating is a pretty good option.”  
Louis snorts. “Of course you do.”  
“What, you don’t?” Harry teases.   
Louis rolls his eyes and leans up to kiss him on the nose.   
“I think being boyfriends sounds really nice,” Louis admits.   
“Yeah?” Harry asks, his eyes twinkling.   
“Yeah,” Louis confirms.   
Harry grins and leans in for a kiss. Louis makes a noise in the back of his throat and reaches up to cup Harry’s cheeks. His lips part so he can kiss Harry deeper, and Harry pulls him closer.   
“Boyfriends sounds really nice to me, too,” Harry says.   
…  
Liam goes to Zayn’s before the afternoon shift at the shelter. It’s a completely unexpected visit, and Zayn’s eyes go wide when he opens the door to his apartment. They haven’t spoken since Friday.   
“Hey,” Zayn breathes out.   
Liam bites his lip. “Hey. Is it okay if I come in?”  
“I guess.” Zayn opens the door all the way and steps back, and Liam shoots him a tight smile as he enters the small building.   
Liam follows Zayn to the couch, where TV is playing quietly in the background and there’s a bowl of strawberries on the table.   
Liam awkwardly stands there for a moment until Zayn offers him a drink, and he only sits when Zayn leaves the room to get him a glass of water.   
“I’m guessing there’s a reason why you’re here,” Zayn says as he plunks down on the opposite side of the couch.   
Liam looks sheepish. “Sorry that this isn’t a visit purely to see you.”  
Zayn’s heart sinks, but he doesn’t let it show on his face. He’s good at that, hiding his emotions. He has been since he figured out that his sexual orientation wasn’t the most common one out there.   
“Alright,” he finally says, a few seconds too late. “What do you want to talk about, then?”  
Liam clears his throat, takes a minute to gather his thoughts.   
“I want to apologize for running out on you like that,” he says.   
Zayn presses his lips together. “Yeah, well. Wouldn’t be the first time it happened.”  
Liam’s eyebrows furrow. “That doesn’t make it right. I’m sorry that I did that to you.”  
“Usually people don’t come back when they do that. Why did you?” Zayn asks.   
“Because I care about you,” Liam answers sincerely. “I was scared and confused, but I’m not scared anymore. Confused, yes, but not scared.”  
“No offense or anything, but I refuse to be your experiment,” Zayn says. “So if that’s all you came here to ask me to be, then you might as well just leave.”  
“I don’t get you,” Liam says. “First you’re cool with just getting each other off and calling it good, but now you want more and I don’t understand.”  
“That was before I liked you,” Zayn confesses, his tone raising with irritation. “I mean, I always have, but it’s different now. I proper like you.”  
“Oh.” Liam makes a breathy sound. “Like, get married and have babies proper like?”  
Zayn snorts. “That’s more in love, Li.”  
The nickname rolls off his tongue before he can stop it, and he smiles to himself.   
“And you’re not?” Liam asks. “In love with me, I mean.”  
Zayn hesitates, but he shakes his head.   
“I wouldn’t go that far,” he says. It’s not quite a denial, but Liam accepts it as one and nods.   
“I should head out,” he says.   
“Oh, okay.” Zayn barely manages to keep his face from falling. “I’ll walk you out.”  
He follows Liam to the door helplessly, desperately wanting him to stay, but he lacks the courage to keep him from going.   
“See you this afternoon,” Liam says.   
“Yeah,” Zayn hums.   
He watches Liam go, and a sinking feeling settles in the pit of his stomach. He should have made him stay.   
…  
The lack of shipment workers makes lunch noticeably less crowded. Jaime helps Louis serve to help it go by even faster, and they’ve cleared through everyone in a good forty five minutes.   
Niall shows up just as Louis’ begins taking his apron off, and he groans when he sees him.   
“Why do you always show up at the worst times?” He asks.   
It’s playful, of course, and Niall laughs.   
“Sorry, Lou,” he says in response. “I’ll serve myself if it’s that big of a hassle.”  
Louis tosses his apron to the side and shakes his head.   
“I’ve got it,” he says.   
He fills up a bowl of whatever the hell lunch is supposed to be and he sets it beside his on the tray. He passes it to Niall and nods towards the table.   
“Go sit, I’ll be there in a second,” he says. “Harry’s already there.”  
“It’s cool, I’ll just wait for you,” Niall replies.   
“Alright.”  
Louis hangs his apron and hair net up on his rack, and then he leads Niall towards their usual lunch table. Harry is scrolling through his phone, but he puts it away when he sees them.   
“Aren’t you not supposed to have that?” Niall asks.   
Harry shrugs. “I’m on break. Besides, it’s not like Hugo can fire me. I have to be here.”  
“Yeah, but he’ll tell your parole officer,” Niall says.   
“Do you ever shut up?” Harry raises an eyebrow. “Honestly, Niall, don’t be a narc.”  
Niall blushes. “Sorry.”  
“Anyway.” Louis clears his throat. “How did you spend your morning off?”  
“I slept,” Niall answers. “It was nice, I haven’t gotten that much sleep in a long time.”  
“Cool,” Harry hums.   
“What about you guys?” Niall asks.   
Harry and Louis exchange a look, and Louis’ cheeks pink up a bit.   
“Oh no. Oh no.” Niall’s eyes widen.  
“What is it?” Louis asks. He’s more concerned than he should be, because Niall starts laughing.   
“I know that look, I do.” He points an accusatory finger at them. “You guys hooked up. The question is how many times you’ve done it.”  
“We didn’t hook up,” Louis says through gritted teeth. He shoots Harry an apologetic look, and Harry doesn’t like the feeling that twists in his gut. Louis is looking at him differently. He’s not supposed to look at him differently.   
“Maybe not today, but I know that you did,” Niall says.   
Louis is going to deny it, Harry can tell, so he speaks before Louis gets a chance to.   
“Friday night,” he tells Niall. “Louis slept over at my place.”  
“Hope you got him breakfast after, Styles.” Niall snorts.   
“Oh, I did.” Harry gives him a look. “What kind of man to you take me for?”  
“The kind that have a lot of friends with benefits,” Niall answers.   
Harry looks down. “Maybe at one point.”  
“Is that a confirmation?” Niall teases, so oblivious to the meaning behind Harry’s words. Louis isn’t. He’s looking at Harry with a mixture of surprise and confusion.   
Harry forces a laugh.   
“I’m not confirming or denying anything,” he says.   
Niall holds his hands up. “Okay, okay, I’ll back off. You’re too mysterious for me.”  
Harry chuckles. “Thanks, I do try.”  
“Are you two a thing or something now?” Niall asks.   
“Yeah, or something,” Louis mutters.   
“You could say that we’re dating,” Harry says. “But you’ll have to ask Louis that if you want confirmation.”  
Niall turns to him and raises his eyebrows. “Well?”  
Louis looks to Harry, who smiles softly and nods. Louis turns back to Niall with more confidence than before, and he reaches for Harry’s hand for visual proof.   
“Yeah, Harry’s my boyfriend,” he says.   
Niall’s mouth falls open, like he wasn’t expecting Louis to actually say yes. He probably expected it to be a joke, or something.   
Then he sobers up and crosses his arms over his chest.  
“Then you have to kiss,” he declares.   
“Oh, come on.” Harry looks incredulous. “Kissing isn’t a relationship thing.”  
“No, but you can tell by how awkward the kiss looks if you two are dating or not,” Niall says, crossing his arms across his chest indignantly.   
Louis shrugs, and he pulls Harry in by the back of his neck. Harry makes a startled sound but then he relaxed, his left hand coming up to cup Louis’ cheek. He presses closer, and Louis lets out a soft moan against his lips.   
“Okay, what the fuck?”  
Startled, Louis pulls away from Harry. They look up to see Liam and Zayn hovering over the table, surprise etched into their face. Niall starts cackling, his face going red with it.   
“Um—” Liam starts to say, but Niall cuts him off.  
“Welcome to lunch, friends. Harry and Louis are boyfriends now. This was them proving it to me,” he announces. Louis turns bright red, and even Harry’s blushing.  
“Cool,” Zayn says. He takes a seat beside Niall.  
Liam doesn’t say anything. He simply takes a seat and starts eating his lunch.   
Louis’ not having it.   
“That’s it?” He asks.   
Zayn shrugs. “What more do you want? You’re dating Harry, it’s cool. It doesn’t need a congratulations.”  
“You guys are cool with it, right?” Louis asks next.  
“Obviously I am. That’s why I made Harry kiss you,” Niall answers, his chest puffed out in pride. Harry isn’t sure if it’s for them or for himself.   
Zayn shrugs again. “Why wouldn’t I be? I’m pan, remember? It’d be pretty shitty of me to, like, resent you when I also like dick.”  
“Liam?” Louis prompts.   
He shrugs. “It’s cool, man, as long as you don’t turn out like Jacob and Finley. Fucking on the job isn’t nice at all.”  
Harry snorts. “Oh, you won’t have that problem.”  
“Definitely not.” Louis’ laughing, but it’s one of those dry, uncomfortable laughs. Harry lays a hand on his thigh and squeezes, trying to be comforting. Louis forces a smile and looks down at his plate. He moves his food around his plate and tries not to let the disappointment he’s feeling show on his face.   
He’s failing badly.   
Really badly.   
Zayn picks up on it.   
“You okay, Tomlinson?” He asks.  
Louis collects his thoughts and forces himself to smile.   
“I’m fine,” he says. “Why do you ask?”  
“Because you’re looking a bit glum,” Zayn answers.   
Louis makes that fake smile even larger.   
“Nope, not glum at all. I’m fine,” he says.   
He meets Harry’s eyes, and when he sees how disappointed Harry looks, he’s never felt so bad about a lie in his entire life.   
Harry’s hand falls from his thigh, and Louis’ heart sinks.   
…  
“This whole no sex thing really bothers you, doesn’t it?” Harry asks.  
It’s Friday, and they’re in Louis’ car so they can drive home together. That’s not surprising; they’ve been driving together all week. What is surprising is the fact that Harry’s bringing it up now, when he’s had all week to talk about it.   
Louis bites his lip, hesitating. There’s no right thing to say here. He could spare Harry’s feelings and make up a lie, but he knows that Harry would see right through that, and that would hurt him even more. He has no other choice but to tell him the truth.   
“A bit,” Louis confesses. “It’s hard to, like, accept that you’re not attracted to me that way when I’d be okay with fucking you every second.”  
Harry reaches for his hand and intertwines their fingers. Louis lays them on the console and squeezes.   
“You don’t resent me for that, do you?” He asks.   
Louis shakes his head. “No, and I never will. It would be easier if I didn’t want to have sex with you so badly.”   
Harry makes a face. “I’m sorry.”  
“Don’t be. It’s not your fault,” Louis replies. “This isn’t on you, this is on me. I’m sorry that I’m making it about me when you’re clearly struggling to come to terms with this.”  
“Um, about that.” Harry pauses, clears his throat. “I think I’ve found a label.”  
“Oh? Do tell.”   
Harry cracks a smile, but he’s so nervous that his fingers are shaking.   
“Hey,” Louis murmurs, meeting his eyes for a few seconds. “I’m not going to break up with you because you’ve figured out your sexuality. I’m proud of you.”  
“Thanks.” Harry’s smile grows by a half centimetre. “Have you heard of the asexual spectrum?”  
“I’ve heard of being asexual, but I didn’t know that there’s a spectrum,” Louis answers. He tries to keep his tone casual, tries not to let on that he’s watching Harry carefully out of the corner of his eye.   
“It’s actually really cool,” Harry says. “It’s not black and white. It’s, like, gray. And everyone defines their asexuality differently, too, which is pretty cool.”  
Louis squeezes his hand again.  
“How do you define?” He asks.   
Harry actually looks excited to share. Louis isn’t sure if he feels the same, but there’s pride bursting through his veins, and he kisses the back of Harry’s hand.   
“I’m asexual,” Harry says. “I’ve got a libido, it’s just pretty low. I’m not repulsed by sex. I don’t mind the idea of it. I simply don’t feel sexual attraction towards people, and I think I’m okay with that.”  
Louis smiles and brings Harry’s hand back up to his lips.   
“If you’re okay with it, then I am, too,” Louis says. “So you’re asexual and?”  
“Gay,” Harry answers. “I’m gay. Are you?”  
“Yeah,” Louis responds. “I thought it was obvious. My ex used to talk about how flamboyant I am.”  
Harry shrugs. “I don’t do stereotypes. All I knew was that you like me and I didn’t feel the need to ask.”  
“I like that about you,” Louis says. “I like that you don’t pry.”  
“It makes it feel more special when people open up if I don’t,” Harry tells him. “But that’s just me. I don’t have anything against people who are overly curious.”  
Louis hums.   
“What do you want for dinner?” He asks instead of answering.   
“Oh, have I been invited over?” Harry teases.   
Louis grins, playing along.   
“You have,” he answers. “What do you want to eat?”  
“Whatever you want,” Harry tells him. He leans his head back against his seat and closes his eyes. “Wake me up when we’re at yours.”  
Louis laughs. “Okay, love.”  
Harry smiles to himself.   
…  
By the end of the night, Louis’ house smells like Chinese food and Yankee Candle. Harry gave a few candles to him earlier in the week, and Louis lights them when he’s not around to keep his apartment smelling like Harry.   
Tonight is different. Tonight they ate a little too much and got a little too tipsy, and now they’re a mess of giggles and Harry’s is too drunk to care about how handsy Louis is.   
The living room is dark apart from the flickering of the candles and the dull glow of the TV. Louis is pressed against the end of the couch, against the armrest, and Harry is half on his lap. Louis fingers are tangled in his hair, Harry’s in his shirt, and Louis is kissing him softly on the mouth.  
“You should stay over tonight,” Louis says against his lips.   
Harry hums. “You say that every weekend.”  
“Maybe I don’t want to ask you anymore. Maybe I want it to become another thing that we do,” Louis says.   
It’s too serious of a conversation to have when there’s alcohol pumping through their veins. Harry’s eyes flutter shut, and Louis kisses him again to fill the silence and distract from the question he didn’t mean to ask.   
Fuck drunken honesty.   
“I’m not sure what you’re asking me,” Harry confesses quietly. He’s pulled back from the kiss and is staring at Louis with soft eyes.   
Louis bites his lip, looks away.   
“I was thinking that if maybe you wanted to stay here on the weekends, it would be cool? More than cool—amazing. Fuck, why am I rambling?”   
Harry giggles, his eyes lit up. Louis doesn’t understand what his expression means.   
“Every weekend?” He asks.   
“I mean, yeah. Unless one of us is busy or something.” Louis blushes and looks down at his hands, which are how resting on Harry’s thighs.   
“Okay,” Harry answers.   
“Really?” Louis meets his eyes after a second, and Harry nods.   
“Really.”  
He leans forward and bumps his nose against Louis’, leaves them pressed together. Louis’ lips turn up in a smile, and he reaches for Harry’s hands and intertwines their fingers.   
“I’ll clear a drawer out for you. You can keep some things here,” he says.  
Harry’s breath leaves him at once. “Oh.”  
“What is it?” Louis’ smile is replaced by a frown. “What did I say?”  
“Nothing, you’re fine. I was just surprised,” Harry says. “I didn’t think you were that serious about it—about me.”  
“I’m quite serious,” Louis answers. He hesitates for a few seconds before he speaks again, busies himself with his thumb gently moving against Harry’s. “More serious than I have been about anything.”  
Harry cheeks go pink. “You can have a drawer at my place, too, if you want.”  
“It does smell good over there.” Louis pretends to think about it, as if there’s any other answer than yes in his head.   
“Louis,” Harry whines.   
He chuckles, relenting. “Of course I want, Harry. No need to be embarrassed.”  
Louis runs his fingertips over Harry’s red hot cheeks, kisses him on each of them.   
“You’re so easy to work up,” he murmurs.   
“Gemma said that, too,” Harry says. “She said it when we were breaking into my aunt’s house.”  
Louis’ spine stiffens. Is this it? Is he finally going to get to know what Harry did? He has so many questions, so many things he wants to ask, but he forgets all of it as soon as he looks at Harry’s face. He looks sick to his stomach. Louis stays quiet.   
“She thought it would be fun. She said we were just going to take her pills, get a bit high and then steal some money. She lied.” Harry looks away. Louis wants to say he seems ashamed, but that’s not quite right. He’s angry, but Louis knows that it’s not at himself. No, he’s angry at Gemma.   
“What happened, Harry?” Louis asks.   
“She started talking about how we should kill her. ‘She’s so peaceful, Harry. We could just end that.’ I got freaked out. I backed away from her, but I hit the nightstand and my aunt’s vase fell to the floor. She woke up, screaming bloody murder at us. We ran, we ran like hell. Gemma was laughing the whole time, but all I could think about was what Gemma talked me into. What she wanted to do.”  
Louis swallows hard. Harry continues.   
“I guess my aunt called the cops, because the next thing I knew, there was a police car pulling up behind us and we got arrested,” Harry tells him. He balls up his fists in anger. “Did I tell you Gemma was pregnant?”  
Louis shakes his head. “You didn’t.”  
“Well, she was. But not with the kid she has now. This was a different one.” Harry’s lips twist into something like a snarl. “That’s how she got away with it. No one wanted to lock up a young, pregnant woman who already had a two year old daughter at home.”  
“Harry—Harry, it’s okay.” Louis tries to touch him, soothe him with gentle hands running down his arms, but Harry shakes his head frantically.   
“It’s not okay!” He shouts, twisting out of Louis’ grip. He jumps up from the couch, pacing back and forth in front of it. Louis is frozen in place.   
“Harry—”  
“She aborted the baby, you know? She aborted it right after my trial, where I got sentenced to community service and she got off scotch free.” Harry grips his hair between his fingers, tugging harshly. There is something evil in his eyes, something Louis hasn’t seen since Ethan.   
“She set me up,” Harry continues angrily. “She got herself knocked up so she’d stay out of the system, and she left me to dry. It’s not fair. None of it. It’s not fair that she manipulates people the way she does, it’s not fair that her husband suffers through it all so he can stay with his daughter, and it’s not fair that through everything she’s done, I still love her.”  
Everything seems to suddenly snap into perspective for Louis. He springs from the couch and reaches for Harry. Louis wraps him up in his arms, holds him to his chest and squeezes him so tightly. There are tears on his neck, and Harry is making broken noises, and Louis hasn’t seen anyone so shattered since he saw himself in the mirror after his trial, back when he lost everything.   
He remembers what Ethan had said to him when he came out of the court room, the words that still haunt him to this day.   
“You’re a bad boyfriend, you’re a bad son, and you’re a bad person. You know why? Because you’re impulsive, and you never think about anyone but yourself. So while you’re rotting alone and I’ve got someone much better than you by my side, I want you to think of me and everything we could have had. Think long and hard about everything you lost and what you’ll never feel again. I hope you go to hell, Louis. I really do.”  
With Harry crying in his arms and no clue of what to say to make it better, Louis has never felt so defeated. Ethan has never been so correct in his life.   
“I can’t keep her out of my life if I tried,” Harry whispers. He presses closer, tucks his face into Louis’ neck and keeps his arms wrapped tightly around his middle.   
“She’s not a good person, but that’s not your fault, Harry,” Louis says, trying to console him. “It’s okay to have your head and your heart in two different places. She’s your sister, and it’s okay to love her.”  
“I want her to be normal. I want to be normal.”  
“What even is normal?” Louis surprises himself with the ferocity in his voice. “Everyone is a bit fucked up. Your sister just happens to be a different kind of fucked up and that doesn’t mean you’re any less of a person. You’re a good person, Harry, you are. Don’t let her take that away from you.”  
He shakes his head against Louis’ neck. “She already did.”  
Louis pulls back and cups his cheeks. He presses their foreheads together and forces Harry to look at him.   
“Then take it back.”  
“I can’t. I’ve already tried. She’s taken so much from me, Louis, and now I’ve got a record. Because of her. Everything is because of her.”  
Harry looks so broken in this moment. He’s so small in Louis’ arms like this, his cheeks streaked with tears and his eyes swollen. Louis can hardly look at him, can hardly swallow past the lump in his throat.   
“You need to face everything that happened. She did stuff, but she isn’t responsible for how you feel. She might be a bad person and she might have got you a record, but you are your own person.”  
It surprises Louis to say all that stuff, but it doesn’t make him stop. No, it just fuels him, keeps him going.   
“I will not let you treat yourself like my ex-boyfriend and I treated each other,” he says fiercely. “You need to get your shit sorted out. That is the only way it’ll get better. You can’t be like who I was when I was with my ex.”  
“It’s hard to believe you when I don’t know what you did,” Harry remarks coldly. The comment feels oddly like something the group has said to Harry before, when he first started his community service.   
Louis sighs.  
“He was twenty one when we met. Young, eager, pretty. He was everything I wasn’t and he had things I wanted, and that’s why I fell in love with him,” Louis says. Quietly, like it’s a secret. It’s been locked away for so long that it’s started to feel like something that needed to be kept hidden.   
“We smoked together, drank together. Had sex a lot. Other than the dates and the occasional I love yous, it felt like we were fuck buddies more than anything else,” Louis continues, just as quietly. “He fucked other people. I knew about it, but I pretended that it didn’t happen. I was hurting, and I wanted reasons for it. I used Ethan to fuel that hurt, just like you’re doing with Gemma.”  
Harry searches his face, their eyes locked. He has never seen anyone so raw, not since Gemma’s husband cried in his arms, the sonogram of his dead baby clutched to his chest.   
“I’m a horrible, daddy, Harry. I couldn’t protect my baby. I couldn’t stop Gemma. I’m horrible, a horrible daddy.”  
“He used me as a safety net, someone to rely on as he made a name for himself,” Louis says. “We weren’t meant to last. I always knew that. But that didn’t stop it from hurting. I wasn’t enough, he wasn’t enough. We weren’t supposed to work out.”  
“What are you telling me?” Harry asks.   
“I’m telling you that you need to look at yourself, and then look at your sister, and remember that you aren’t her,” Louis answers him. “You need to accept that what she did was horrible, and that she is not good, but that doesn’t mean that you are the same way. You can love someone and not like them. It’s a complicated concept, and I know it’s hard to understand, but you have to try.”  
“I don’t want to think anymore,” Harry whispers.   
“What do you need?” Louis asks.   
“Need you to fuck me,” Harry says, his breath spilling out over Louis’ face. “Need you to make me forget.”  
“Fuck, Harry. Are you sure?” Louis asks.   
“I’m sure, Louis. I want you, I promise.”  
Louis searches Harry’s face for any trace of a lie, but he doesn’t see it. He takes Harry’s hand and leads him down the hall, to his bedroom. He pulls Harry in by the waist, so close that their lips brush when Louis speaks.   
“How do you want it?”   
Harry’s lips pull up in a smirk.   
“You got anything that can be used as a restraint?” Harry asks.   
Louis’ eyes take on a glint. “I’ve got ties. Why?”  
“Because I want you to tie me up, and then I want you to ride me,” Harry whispers, breath fanning over Louis’ cheek.   
Louis swallows hard.   
“Get naked,” he says in response.   
Harry grins. He tosses his shirt to the floor as Louis digs around in his drawer for ties. His pants are next to go, followed by his boxers. He throws them to the floor in a pile and turns to collapse on the bed.   
Louis tosses two ties at him, suddenly very naked and very hard. He straddles Harry’s waist and lifts his hands to the bed posts. He secures the ties around his wrists and gives them a firm tug.   
“Not too tight?” He asks.   
Harry shakes his head. “It’s okay.”  
Louis reaches into the bedside table for lube. He eyes the condoms for a moment, and at the last second he reaches for one, remembering Ethan and all of that unsafe shit they did.   
Louis presses a chaste kiss to Harry’s lips, tries to go further, but Harry recants. The intimacy of kissing and sex never matched up for him, never correlated. No matter how much he wishes Louis to be different, he can’t.   
So he pulls away, because it’s easier to distance himself when they aren’t connected more ways than they have to be.   
“Want to see you spread yourself open for me,” Harry says, and Louis preens.   
He pops the cap on the lube and leans back against Harry’s legs. He spreads his open as he slicks his fingers, presses his feet to the mattress on the outside of Harry’s thighs. He brings his hand down and circles his fingers around his rim. Harry watches intensely, his pupils blown wide, and Louis flushes under his gaze.   
“Go on,” Harry prompts.   
Louis pushes the first finger in up to the knuckle without hesitation. He lets out a sigh, relaxing into the sheets. He thrusts his finger in and out of himself a few times before he adds a second finger in beside the first.   
“You look so good like that,” Harry murmurs.   
Louis whines, his fingers fucking into himself at a rapid pace. His back is arched, pretty moans falling from his lips.   
“Add another, baby.”  
Louis does. He pushes a third in beside the others, twisting his wrist. He makes a high pitched noise when the tips brush over his prostate.   
“H-Harry, please. Fuck me, fuck me—”  
“Come here, baby.” Harry nods his head towards his cock, hard and curved against his stomach. “Get me ready for you.”  
Louis whimpers at that. He lubes up Harry’s dick and positions himself over him, his palms spread out over Harry’s chest. He sinks down on Harry’s cock, his breath caught in his throat as he adjusts.   
“Look at you,” Harry whispers. “So pretty, spread out in my cock like that.”  
Louis moans, bouncing on Harry’s lap. His hips slam down against Harry’s, desperate for it.   
“Touch yourself,” Harry commands.   
Louis makes a noise of pleasure as he gets his hand around himself. His strokes are as frantic as his bounces, punctuated by loud, high pitched moans and gasps. His breathing is erratic, and stomach tightens up.   
“Harry—Harry, I’m close,” he gasps out.   
“Come for me.”  
Louis does, just like that. He dips his thumb into his slit and that’s it—he’s gone. He spills over his fist, come shooting up to paint his stomach with it. The motions of his hips slow, and he carefully rolls off of Harry’s lap.   
“Can I suck you off?” He asks.   
“If you untie me first,” Harry replies.   
Louis gets the ties undone, clumsy in his post-orgasmic haze. Harry twists his wrists and pulls Louis in for another chaste kiss. He gets a hand around his cock, diverting Louis’ attention.  
“You wanna suck me, baby?” He teases.   
Louis swallows; nods. With a nod from Harry, he shifts to his knees. He licks the side of his cock, over the prominent vein on the underside and envelopes the head. He sucks him down until his nose is pressed against Harry’s stomach and swallows around him.   
“Fuck,” Harry curses, fisting Louis’ hair in his hand. “Not gonna last long, Lou.”  
He bucks his hips up, gagging Louis’ on his cock. He pulls back and licks over the slit before he swallows around him again. He bobs his head a few times before Harry swears again and tightens the grip he has on Louis’ hair.   
“Gonna come, Lou,” he warns.   
Louis pulls back and opens his mouth.   
“Come on my face.”  
Harry swears and starts frantically pulling himself off. When he comes, he paints Louis’ cheeks with it, his pretty lips (those damn lips), letting out a long, drawn out moan.   
“Fuck, Louis.”  
He reaches for a handful of tissues to wipe the come off Louis’ face and his stomach. Louis is trembling. Harry pulls him closer, wraps him up in his arms and holds him close.   
“Was that okay?” He asks.   
“Ask yourself that,” Louis says in response.   
Harry snorts in response, but he can’t control the guilt eating away at him. He let it go to far, treated Louis like he treated all of his other partners.   
“We should talk about this tomorrow,” Harry says.   
“I know,” Louis replies.  
Harry kisses his cheek. “Sleep now, though?”  
“Sleep now,” Louis affirms. 

…  
Harry wakes up to hands in his hair. Louis is propped up on his side, head on his fist, blinking down at Harry serenely. Their eyes meet, and Louis smiles. His eyes are soft.   
Harry pushes into the gentle touch of Louis’ hands, moving closer to him. There is still guilt eating away at him, and Louis’ touch makes it impossible to think about anything but the way his fingers dug into his chest, the way his thighs quivered against Harry’s.   
Harry closes his eyes, unable to look at him. He remembers what he thought last night, muffled in the clutter of dirty thoughts he’d been thinking. He thought that he loved him, and it almost tumbled from his lips like it was the easiest thing to say.   
He thinks of what it would have been like if he’d actually said it. Of all the broken hearts he’s suffered through, of all the hearts he’s destroyed, Louis would be the worst.   
“You’re thinking about something.”  
Harry opens his eyes at that. Louis is watching him carefully, his face barely three centimeters away.   
“Something,” Harry echoes, his lips turning up in a short lived smile.   
Louis scoots closer. “Talk to me.”  
Harry shrugs. “It’s nothing important.”  
“But it’s on your mind. It means something,” Louis insists. “Please?”  
“You’re persistent, aren’t you?” Harry fixes him with a playful glare, but Louis just rolls his eyes, knowing he’s won. “I feel dirty,” Harry admits. “I don’t—I don’t regret it, but if it didn’t happen, I wouldn’t be sad about that.”  
Louis’ face falls. “Oh.”  
Harry presses his palm to Louis’ cheek and lifts his head. Louis has his bottom lip sucked between his teeth, and he looks like he’s holding back tears. Harry relents.   
“I wanted it, I did, but only because I thought I couldn’t handle this—” Harry pauses, waves his arms for a second. “This—this feeling I get where I just feel so dirty. I thought it would be different because it’s you and I’m kind of in love with you and all, but that didn’t change it.”  
The short speech has fallen on deaf ears. Louis’ eyes have been wide since the confession tumbled from Harry’s lips, unexpected and unplanned just like his thoughts the night before.   
“Harry?” He whispers, eyes comically wide at this point. “What the fuck did you just say?”  
Harry’s face flames. “I said that I love you.”  
“Fuck,” Louis swears. His eyes look panicky for a second, but then he whips his head around to look at Harry, and his whole face softens. “Do you really mean that?”  
Harry can’t speak. He can only nod, his voice caught in his throat. He has to swallow around the lump that’s formed, frozen in his place. The seconds feel like hours as they tick by, the only sounds in the room Harry’s heavy breathing and the wet gnawing of Louis’ teeth on his bottom lip.   
That damn lip.   
“I mean it,” Harry says at last, finally finding his voice. “I love you, Louis.”  
Louis’ lips split into this blissed out, dopey grin, and he leans forward so he touch his nose to Harry’s.   
“I love you, too,” he whispers. “I love you, too.”  
He says it urgently the second time, and Harry rolls so Louis is on his back and he’s straddling him. He wants to kiss him, but the sunlight breaking through the curtains is too gentle for the rough kind of kiss he craves. He tucks his face against Louis’ neck instead, clinging to him.   
“We should talk about this,” Harry says after a few minutes, interrupting the silence that had fallen over them.   
“I know,” Louis whispers back. “Later.”  
Louis breath is puffing against his face and his hands are gently running up and down his back. There is serenity in the way the light is casting a soft glow across Louis’ cheekbones.   
“Later,” Harry agrees.   
Later is fine with him. For now, he’s content to hold Louis in silence with the summer air swirling around them.   
…  
Zayn mutters curses under his breath as the insistent knocking on the door grows louder and more urgent. He yanks the door open angrily, about to cuss the person on the other end out, but everything he had to say escapes him when he sees who it is.   
“Liam? What are you doing here?”  
“I needed to see you,” Liam answers. He pushes past Zayn and slams the door shut, the pushes Zayn up against it.   
“What do you want, Liam?” Zayn asks.   
“You,” Liam says urgently. “I want you.”


	4. Chapter 4

The air is crisp, swirling around their heads and tinged with the smell of pine. Liam is blinking serenely and Zayn is watching him. They are laying on their sides, facing each other, drinking in the sight of each other, unmoving.   
Liam moves first. He brings his palm to Zayn’s cheek, brushing this thumb against his bottom lip. Zayn’s lips quirk up in a small, tight smile.   
“We’re something now, aren’t we?” Liam asks, breaking the silence.   
“Something,” Zayn echoes.   
Liam’s forehead puckers with a frown. “I told you that I love you. I told you while I was fucking you senseless. And you said it back, in case you forgot.”  
“I remember very well, Liam,” Zayn replies coldly, bite to his tone. “But I also remember telling you that I’m not going to be an experiment for you. I’m not going to be the deciding factor in your sexuality. If you want a fuck buddy, go talk to Finley. He’ll hook you up with one.”  
Liam withers under Zayn’s angry stare. The night before was fun, a mixture of pain and pleasure that had Zayn begging for more. Liam saw, heard with his own two ears as Zayn pleaded for him to be closer and begged to be fucked hard and fast. Now it seems like he wants nothing to do with him, and Liam can’t help but feel confused.   
“I thought you loved me,” he mumbles.   
Zayn sighs. Not that card.   
“I do love you, but I don’t love this game we’re playing,” he says. “I need to know what we are, what I am to you. I don’t like this. I don’t like not knowing what we mean.”  
“Zayn. Zayn.” Liam reaches for him, pulls him closer so their noses are brushing. “I fucking love you. I love you more than I ever loved Amy. I love you more than anyone I’ve ever loved. So please, be mine? I want you. I have always wanted you.”  
Liam sees it the moment Zayn gives in. His eyes flutter shut and he pretends to think about it, but Liam knows he has him. Knows it. He can see it in the way Zayn’s biting his lip, in the way a flush has spread across his face. Liam always was good at the sweet talking.   
“You’re just like my ex-girlfriend, you know,” Zayn says suddenly, his eyes opening. “Always saying cute things, making me feel special. But then she stomped on my heart and left me.”  
“I’m not like her, Zayn,” Liam almost whispers. “I’m not. Not after Amy. I’ve felt too much heartache. I don’t want to experience it again, and I don’t want anyone else to feel it. Especially not you. You deserved more than her.”  
“She was everything. Everything in the way Amy was to you,” Zayn confesses quietly. “She was there when I came out as pansexual to my family, she was there when I was trying to figure out how sex is supposed to work. She was there for everything. Everything. For four years, Liam. Four years. I was building a life with her, and she just fucking left.”  
“I know what that feels like, you know. Amy fucking cheated on me.” Liam snorts, but there is no humour to it. “Relationships can suck. I’ve been in relationships that have sucked. I don’t want whatever we have to be like that.”  
Zayn looks down. “Me neither.”   
“I can promise you that I won’t be like your girlfriend if you promise me that you won’t be like Amy,” Liam says, holding out his pinky.   
“I promise,” Zayn says, wrapping his pinky around Liam’s. He doesn’t even question it, and Liam likes that.   
“We have to kiss on it,” he declares. “To make it more official.”  
Zayn eyes him, but he leans closer subconsciously.   
“Okay,” he whispers, his breathing fanning over Liam’s nose and lips.   
He leans in, their lips brushing. Liam presses closer, lips open so he can lick against Zayn’s tongue. He reaches for Zayn’s hand, squeezing to make sure that this isn’t some dream, that Zayn is actually in front of him—kissing him.   
“You promise not to hurt me?” Zayn whispers between kisses.   
“I promise not to hurt you if you promise to do the same,” Liam whispers back.   
“Okay.” Zayn’s eyes flutter shut. He leans in again. “Okay, boyfriend.”  
Okay, boyfriend, Liam echoes in his thoughts. He loves the way it sounds.   
…  
“Later” comes over mugs of hot chocolate, tucked under cozy blankets. Harry is curled into Louis’ side, blowing on the hot liquid in his mug. Louis is watching him, gazed fixed on him. He lifts his hand to run his fingers through Harry’s hair, plants a kiss on the top of his head.  
“I don’t think we should have sex anymore,” Louis says, breaking the silence.  
Harry lets out a sigh of relief. “You understand, right?”  
Louis nods. He pauses the stroking motions to rub Harry’s scalp with his fingertips.   
“Yeah,” he answers after a beat. “I think before I had this idea that I could magically make you want to have sex. No matter what I was saying out loud, I still had this fucked up idea in my head and I’m sorry for that. You don’t deserve that. You deserve someone who understands and doesn’t try to change you.”  
“Louis—”  
“Hush, I’m not done.” There’s a glint in Louis’ eyes. “I understand now. I really do. You’re not broken, there’s nothing to fix. Just because the majority of society is sex crazed doesn’t mean it’s the norm. Because really—what is normal?”  
Harry fights to hold in a smile and fails, grin stretching his lips wide. “You mean it?”  
Louis ducks down to kiss him on the cheek.   
“I get it now, I do,” Louis says, kissing his forehead this time. He’s affectionate in the early hours of the day, when he’s the sleepy, and Harry adores it.   
“I’m not saying that we’ll never get off together again,” Harry begins, picking his words carefully. “But I’d prefer not to fuck again.”  
“Can I say something?” Louis asks slowly.   
Sensing the seriousness in his tone, Harry tilts his chin up so he can meet Louis’ eyes. He nods, kissing him on the jaw.   
“It felt like you weren’t all there last night,” Louis confesses quietly. “It felt… Well, it felt like you were looking at me as your fuck buddy instead of your boyfriend, the man who loves you.”  
Harry hesitates for a second, turning over words in his head. He had been feeling the same thing, but he had convinced himself that Louis didn’t pick up on it. He should have figured that Louis would have known when he forced himself into a shell and bossed Louis around like what he wanted didn’t matter.   
“I know,” he whispers. “I know. I’m sorry.”  
“It was hot at first,” Louis continues. He’s whispering, too. “But then it started to feel like you didn’t care about what I needed, and I don’t like that.”  
Harry reaches for his hand. He interlocks their fingers and squeezes.   
“I didn’t mean to disappear on you.” He doesn’t know the correct word to use to describe what was racing through his mind. “I felt dirty. I felt like I was doing something wrong.”  
“You’re perfect,” Louis says suddenly, pulling him closer. “I never want to be unable to tell what you’re feeling again.”  
“I love you,” Harry says, because he can’t think of anything else to tell him.   
“I love you, too,” Louis says back, thinking the same thing.   
He holds Harry close, petting his hair and kissing him periodically on the forehead. Harry cuddles closer, pressing his cheek against Louis’ shoulder as he sips his hot chocolate.   
“I want Gemma out of my life,” Harry speaks up suddenly. “Those candles give me headaches, anyway.”  
Louis can’t help but snort, but he quickly sobers up after the absolute glare Harry shoots his way.   
“It’s okay to let her go,” he says, smoothing Harry’s soft curls away from his forehead. “She’s got her daughter and her husband.”  
Harry’s forehead puckers. “That’s what worries me. I can cut her off without any consequences, but her daughter can’t escape, and her husband certainly isn’t leaving his kid behind. She’s going to wreck two lives the way she wrecked mine.”  
“I know you care about your niece, but it’s not your responsibility to keep her safe,” Louis says, choosing his words carefully. “That’s her dad’s job now. He knows what Gemma is capable of, and he’s made the decision to stay with her despite that. The ownership isn’t on you. It’s okay to put yourself first.”  
Harry looks down to his lap. “I know.”  
“Right now, all you need to do is make sure you’re okay,” Louis says. “Forget about everything else. Let your sister go.”  
Harry lets out a long breath. There’s tears glimmering in his eyes, but he doesn’t let them fall. Louis runs his thumb underneath his eyes anyway, the intimate gesture causing a smile to spread across his face.   
“Okay,” he whispers. Then, with more certainty: “Okay.”  
Louis kisses him on the cheek. “Proud of you.”  
“Love you,” Harry says in response.   
Louis watches as Harry slips his phone out from his pocket. He watches as Harry opens a new message and selects Gemma’s contact. He watches as Harry types out a message.   
“Please don’t mail me any more candles. Please don’t send any more letters or call me anymore or send any texts. I’m done, Gemma. I don’t want to do this because I love your daughter, but I hate who you are and who you’re continuing to become. Have a great life, and please stay the fuck away from mine.”  
Tears are falling from his eyes for real this time. He is so raw, spread right open with all of his emotions on display. Louis squeezes him close, at a loss for words. He watches as Harry deletes the text from his phone and proceeds to block Gemma’s number.   
A smile twitches at the corners of his lips. He doesn’t mean to smile, but he’s just so proud. He can’t help but to grin. Harry is so pretty, even while he’s crying. He is lovely and has a kind heart and warm eyes. Louis is so in love with him.   
“I did it,” Harry whispers, in awe. Louis is feeling the same way.   
“You did,” he whispers back encouragingly.   
“I’m going to be okay.” Harry sounds in awe of that, too. Louis smiles again and turns his head so his nose is nuzzled against Harry’s temple.   
“I love you,” he says, because it’s the only thing left.   
“I love you, too.” Harry leans in for a kiss. “Let’s go to my apartment today. I’d like to bring get clothes ready for that drawer you promised me.”  
Louis breaks out in a grin. “Okay.”  
…  
Niall is the last to the table on Monday. He’s got a girl on his arm, which is more surprising to Louis than the kiss Liam plants on Zayn.   
“Okay—what the actual fuck is going on?” He asks.  
Niall grins slyly, slinging his arm around the girl’s shoulders. She grins back at him, adjusting the strap on the volunteers’ pass that hangs around her neck.   
“Guys, this is Vanessa, my girlfriend,” Niall says.   
“Well,” Louis mutters.   
“Didn’t see that coming,” Zayn says under his breath.   
Niall hears him anyway. “Hey. That’s rude. Besides, you just kissed Liam.”  
Louis rolls his eyes. “That’s fucking weird, I admit, but we need to talk about you for a second. You’re the last person we ever expected to date someone. You’re kind of… You know, sociopathic.”  
Niall narrows his eyes, angry slits burning into Louis.   
“I am not.” He lowers his voice and says: “Sh, I need Vanessa to like me.”  
Louis chuckles and holds up his hands in surrender. Harry nudges him, and when Louis looks up, Harry’s got a finger over his lip to signal that Louis is better off being silent. He smiles to himself and kisses Harry’s shoulder.  
“How long have you been together?” Zayn asks.   
Niall glances over at Vanessa, and he stutters. “Um.”  
“Two weeks,” Vanessa answers for him. She touches his arm, soothing something that Louis thinks Niall doesn’t even know how to feel. “It was a confusing date to decide on. We’ve been on a few dates, but we didn’t know when to choose which one made us official.”  
Harry purses his lips. “Cool.”  
Vanessa tucks a black ringlet behind her ear and smiles. Louis thinks she’s a bit eccentric, with the patch of a kitten sewn into her jean jacket and the blue tinted gloss coating her lips.   
Louis diverts his attention to Zayn and Liam.   
“How long have you guys been together, then?” He raises an eyebrow. “I know you guys have had a thing for a while, and we’ve all seen Zayn’s bedroom eyes at you, Liam, but now we need details. When was this official?”  
Zayn goes red, squirming under the attention. Liam doesn’t look much better, sporting pink cheeks of his own, but he reaches for Zayn’s hand anyway. Zayn doesn’t intertwine their fingers, just loosely cups Liam’s hand, and Louis can see the look of dejection on Liam’s face. He would feel bad if Zayn didn’t kiss his neck to make up for it, brandishing him with a love bite for the whole table to see.   
“So…” Vanessa trails off, burning with the classic label questions all the presumed to be straight ask. Louis would cringe if he wasn’t so easy going with all of this stuff, remarks that once would have made him huff now roll of his back.   
“I’m gay,” he proclaims. “And Harry’s my boyfriend. Niall’s the only straight one here. Well, we all thought Liam was but apparently he sucks dick, too.”  
“Can you please shut the fuck up?” Liam fixes him with a glare, and Louis snorts. “I’m bisexual,” he says after a moment. “Yeah. That fits.”  
“Gay. And I’m asexual.” Harry shrugs, like it’s no big deal. It shouldn’t be, Louis has decided, but he can tell by the look on Vanessa’s face that not being into sex is always going to be a difficult concept for people to understand. It shouldn’t be, he thinks, and he squeezes Harry’s hand just because he can.   
Vanessa looks like she’s just trying to put the pieces together and figure out what asexuality actually is, but there’s three other pairs of eyes burning into Harry, and Louis can tell by the way he’s squirming that Harry’s suddenly uncomfortable with this all.   
“Can I just say queer?” Zayn asks, stomping on the elephant in the room. “No one understands what pansexual means. I’m just going to say queer.”  
Vanessa actually smiles at this. “My sister is pan. She calls herself queer, too, says that no one understands her or what the label is. But I get it.”  
Zayn’s eyes light up in the slightest. “That’s—thank you.”  
He doesn’t say anything else, and neither does Vanessa, but they both have small smiles on their faces. Louis erases any negativity he held about Vanessa, instead choosing to look at her as a positive addition to their group. Maybe it’s not fair to judge everyone that shows interest in Niall as some form of crazy, but to be frank, it’s Niall, and he’s not exactly sane.   
Louis nods towards her volunteer tag. “Why are you volunteering here?”  
Vanessa shrugs, but Louis catches a glimpse of something sad in her eyes. He glances back and forth between her and Niall, and it’s obvious to him that he hasn’t caught on at all. Louis frowns inwardly, because Niall really is clueless and it’s going to get someone hurt.   
“I got held back my senior year of high school because I didn’t get enough volunteer hours, so I have to redo the year when fall starts up,” she says. “No biggie, I was going to push university back a year anyway. Now I can be productive in that year break.”  
Louis is taken aback. Not because Vanessa failed grade twelve, because that sort of thing happens all the time. No, he’s in shock because Niall is in his twenties and dating an eighteen year old. Something about this makes Louis’ brain alert with warning bells, but then again, Niall’s whole existence does the same thing.   
Louis isn’t sure what to say, so he smiles instead. “As long as you two are happy.”  
Vanessa fixes him with a smile, her icy blue eyes locked on his. They’re soft, sadness tinged around the edges, and Louis feels something twinge in his chest for her. He looks into Harry’s eyes and sees the same thing, and he squeezes his hand.   
“Do you want to go outside?” He whispers, leaning in to his side.   
A look of relief washes over Harry’s face.   
“Please,” he whispers back.   
“We’re going outside for a bit,” Louis says to the group, nodding towards Harry, whose lips form a hard line.   
“Be safe, you two,” Liam says, but Louis sees more to it than the traditional sex teasing. He makes a note to talk to him during the kitchen duty they’re sharing today.   
Hand in hand, Louis guides Harry out to the back field. He pauses where the grass is the greenest, pulling Harry in by his hips.   
“What’s going on?” Louis asks. “You’re sad, I can tell.”  
Harry shrugs, but he wraps his arms around Louis’ neck and hugs him close. Louis squeezes him tight, his hands spanning out over his back.   
“What’s wrong?” He asks again.   
“I’m just sad,” Harry admits quietly. “I don’t know why. I just am.”  
Louis pulls back, brushes curls from Harry’s forehead. Harry lets out a soft sigh, leaning into his touch.   
“Come over tonight,” he murmurs. “I’ll make you feel good.”  
Harry shudders, cheeks turning pink. “What are you implying?”  
“Nothing overly sexual,” Louis replies, running his fingers through Harry’s fringe. “I’ll make you dinner, run you a bath. Make out with you. Cuddle you. All that good stuff I know you love.”  
Harry eyes glimmer when he smiles. “We’re going to be tired tomorrow.”  
Louis shrugs. “Seeing you smile is worth being tired.”  
“That was so fucking cheesy,” Harry says, but his expression is fond, and he doesn’t even roll his eyes.  
“You love me anyway,” Louis huffs playfully.   
If it’s possible to become even fonder, Harry has mastered the skill, his eyes softening even more.   
“Always will,” he whispers.   
Louis melts. He pulls Harry closer, hand on the back of his neck, and kisses him square on the mouth. Harry makes a noise in the back of his throat, pressing closer.   
“Can I sleepover?” He asks.   
“You don’t even have to ask,” Louis says. All he can think about is the drawer in his room where Harry has put his things.   
“We’re going to be tired,” Harry says again.   
“I don’t care,” Louis replies.   
“Me neither.”  
Louis rolls his eyes. “Shut up and kiss me.”  
Harry is more than happy to oblige.   
…  
Jaime is off on his break when Louis approaches Liam. He’s scrubbing pots in the sink when Louis comes up behind him, and he turns around, raising an eyebrow.   
“Have you come to interrogate me?” He asks.   
Louis hesitates. “Not exactly. I just wanted to offer myself as a friend who cares about you want wants to be there for you if you need me.”  
“Thanks.” Liam smiles, but his lips are tight. “It’s just—It feels weird, knowing who I am. I never considered being bisexual before. I was so far in denial, and now that I’ve figured it out, I feel like an entirely different person. Did you ever feel like that?”  
Louis shrugs. “Like I’ve said before, my sexuality is something I’ve basically always known. But it felt weird after I came out, because everyone knew me how I knew myself. That was the weird part. So yes, I guess I do understand how you feel.”  
“Zayn’s great. But he’s not Amy, and even though I’m in love with him, I’ll never have what I had with Amy with him,” Liam says. He looks down, as if he’s ashamed of voicing what he’s feeling.   
“You’re right, he’s not Amy. But maybe that’s a good thing. Now you can make something different, be the person you were meant to be.” Louis lays a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Zayn is what you need and it’s okay to admit that.”  
Liam shrugs. “It feels wrong sometimes. When I think of Amy it feels wrong to be with Zayn.”  
“The adjusting takes time. You’ve just figured yourself out. Give it time, and the rest will fall into place,” Louis says.   
“Thanks, man.” Liam smiles, looser this time. “You’re a good friend.”  
“So are you,” Louis tells him sincerely.   
“I’m surprised. You’ve barely asked me any personal questions,” Liam teases.   
Louis rolls his eyes. “You haven’t given me a chance. But to reassure you, I only have one question. And it’s not a personal one.”  
Liam raises his eyebrows. “Hit me.”  
“What’s are some romantic dinner ideas?” Louis asks, mumbling.   
Liam smirks. “You want romance? You’ve come to the right place.”  
…  
Harry soaks in the bath as Louis puts dinner in the oven to cook. Louis is bursting to reveal the surprise meal to Harry, but keeping the secret is worth it to watch Harry squirm with excitement.   
He joins Harry in the bath once the dining room is set up for romance. Louis’ gonna woo him, a direct statement from Liam’s vocabulary. Louis watches Harry as he strips off his clothes. He watches the way his eyes are lidded with bliss, the way his muscles are lax.   
“Budge up, will you?” Louis teases, glint to his eyes.   
Harry grins, leaning forward in the tub. Louis slides in behind him, the hot water warming his bones. Harry leans back into his chest as Louis wraps his arms around his middle, going lax in his arms. Louis kisses him on the side of his neck and nuzzles into his skin.   
“Do you ever think about what you’re doing after our community service sentence is up?” Harry asks suddenly.   
“A little,” Louis hums. “Why, have you got something in mind?”  
Harry shrugs, but Louis can tell by the way his spine goes rigid that he’s nervous about disclosing what he’s thinking.   
“Hey,” Louis murmurs, smoothing his palms over Harry’s skin. “You can tell me.”  
“I was going to ask you if you wanted to move in together,” Harry mumbles. “We only have a month left, and I’ve been looking around at some apartments. I wanted a plan before I asked you.”  
Louis smiles, endeared. He kisses Harry on the cheek, holding him tighter.   
“I don’t want anything else,” he says, voice muffled by Harry’s skin.   
Harry smiles, turning his head. He leans in for a kiss that lingers for a few seconds. Louis sighs against his lips, pulling him closer.   
“I love you,” Harry whispers.   
“I love you, too,” Louis whispers back. He reaches for the bottle of vanilla scented shampoo. “Can I wash your hair for you, baby?”  
Harry bites his lip, trying to keep how fond he is of that name a secret.   
“Please,” he answers quietly.   
Louis gently works his fingers through Harry’s hair, earning a sigh from him. He massages his scalp, watching as Harry’s eyes flutter shut in bliss.   
“Feel good?” Louis asks.   
“Mm.”  
Louis chuckles, lightly scratching at Harry’s scalp. He kisses him on the temple, breathing in the sweet scent of him.   
“What kind of apartment did you have in mind?” Louis asks, breaking the comfortable silence.   
“I want one with a loft,” Harry confesses. “There’s a complex not too far from here with apartments like that. I want to move down here. It’s less crowded, less busy. I prefer it here.”  
“We can’t move right now. Our parole officers will be on our asses,” Louis says, more to himself than to Harry. “But I promise you that the first thing we’ll do when we get released is move.”  
Harry smiles. “Okay.”  
“Can’t wait,” Louis says. “Sleeping next to you every night, cooking with you, just being together. This is the domestic shit I live for.”  
Harry snorts. “I fucking love you.”  
Louis realizes that the statement wasn’t supposed to trigger much of a reaction, but his stomach flutters with butterflies anyway. He hides his smile in Harry’s neck, kissing his wet skin.   
“You make me crazy,” he murmurs.   
Harry’s eyes flicker over his face, and his expression dissolves into something utterly fond.   
“I love you,” he says again.   
Louis reaches for the cup on the side of the tub. “Close your eyes.”  
Harry does. Louis fills the cup up with water and dumps it over Harry’s head. Soapy suds drip from Harry’s hair, beads of water forming on the tips of his eyelashes.   
“How about you rinse off while I put dinner on the table?” Louis says, breath tickling the back of Harry’s neck.  
“Okay,” Harry whispers out, his breath hitching.   
“Good boy.”   
The whispered praise makes Harry’s stomach flutter with butterflies. He thinks about how in control he was the night he fucked Louis, and how it felt, but this is nice, too, being able to switch his brain off and trust that Louis will take care of him. It’s not even a sex thing, and that’s the best part of it all.   
Louis kisses him on the shoulder and stands from the tub. Harry’s eyes are trained on him, watching as water drips from his skin and how his bare ass jiggles as he walks. He pulls a pair of boxers up his legs and tugs one of Harry’s shirts over his head, then slips from the room.   
Harry joins him in the kitchen just as Louis is lighting candles, wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants. His eyes widen at the display, and he turns to Louis with an eyebrow raised.   
“What’s all of this?” He asks.   
Louis shrugs, but a smile is playing at his lips.   
“It’s romance,” he answers shyly, a blush spreading over his cheeks. “You wanna sit?”  
Harry smiles back. “Sure.”  
Louis pulls out a chair, and Harry takes a seat. A plate of steaming food is placed in front of him, and he looks up at Louis with soft eyes.   
“You made this?”  
“Yeah,” Louis affirms, nodding. He takes a seat across from Harry and pours him a glass of wine. “Shocking, eh?”  
Harry snorts. “Little bit. We always have takeout when I come over.”  
“Well, I’ll have you know that I can make mean mash potatoes,” Louis states, matter of fact.   
“Oh, I don’t doubt that.” Harry laughs. He raises his spoon to his mouth.   
“I rented a movie,” Louis says. “Mysterious Skin. It’s about gay guys and real life issues. Could possibly be a tear jerker. You up for that?”   
“Is this where the cuddling you promised me comes true?” Harry asks, grinning.   
Louis’ hides his smile with his wine glass. “And possibly the making out.”  
Harry’s eyes sparkle. “Okay. I’m up for it.”  
Louis watches as Harry plays with the mostly eaten food on his plate, and he stands and reaches for his hand.   
“Come here,” he says.   
He pulls Harry up and in, so they’re pressed chest to chest. Louis kisses him on the forehead, their eyes locked.   
“Do you really want to watch that movie?” Harry asks. “Or do you just want to make out?”  
Louis hums. “We can watch it in my room. We can listen to it as we makeout.”  
“Perfect.”  
…  
Zayn lights a cigarette on his last break, leaning against the bricks. Liam watches the smoke leave his lips, and he reaches for his hand.   
“It’s cold out,” he hums, watching Zayn closely.   
“Yeah,” Zayn murmurs.   
Liam’s eyebrows furrow as he catches the distant look in Zayn’s eyes.   
“Everything okay?” He asks.   
Zayn shrugs. “I’m just tired.”  
“Do you really think Vanessa and Niall are going to last?” Liam asks next. He turns his head so he’s looking directly at Zayn, who continues to stare ahead blankly.  
Zayn shrugs. “I don’t know. From what I’ve gathered all they seem to do is have sex. It’s Niall, anyway. He doesn’t understand love. He’s said that himself.”  
“To you?”   
“To Louis,” Zayn answers. “He only told me because he didn’t understand how Niall couldn’t feel emotions that we did. We did a lot of research, figured out that Niall’s a bit of a sociopath. He’s not evil. He’s just not all there.”  
“How can she love someone who can’t love her back?”  
“She doesn’t love him.” Zayn’s eyes flick to his for a second, then he looks away. “She just loves that she’s getting laid on the regular.”  
Liam makes a face. “I bet they’ll break up.”  
“We all do,” Zayn replies.   
The bell sounds, and he drops his cigarette on the ground and steps on it to put it out.  
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Zayn says, pulling Liam in for a quick kiss.   
He frowns. “Aren’t we carpooling?”  
Zayn shakes his head. “I’m taking the bus tonight. There’s somewhere I need to be after we finish today.”  
“I can drive you,” Liam offers. “It’s not a big deal.”  
“I know.” Zayn hesitates for a second. “I need to do this, alright? I’ll see you tomorrow.”  
He kisses Liam again, too quick to be considered much of anything, and then he’s off to the delivery station, leaving Liam stunned and alone, pressed against the bricks.   
…  
“Zayn’s acting weird,” Liam says.  
Louis’ eyebrows furrow. “How so?”  
The two of them are in the kitchen, preparing a dinner that the volunteers will later cook and serve—Vanessa included. Niall stays behind with her, and they sneak off to fuck in the bathroom when the supervisors aren’t around. He’s told Louis that, and every time he mentions it Louis shakes his head in disbelief.   
“He’s not letting me drive him home,” Liam answers sheepishly. It sounds silly to say it out loud, but Zayn’s sudden need for distance is bugging him. “He says he has somewhere to be, but he won’t tell me what is and he looks so distracted.”  
Louis is silent for a moment.   
“The thing with having an asexual boyfriend is that I’ve figured out that sex isn’t the answer to relationship problems,” he begins. It doesn’t trigger at first that he’s just outed Harry, but when it does, he looks to the ground.   
Liam stays quiet, because this is spiraled into a speech and he’s always found it oddly comforting when Louis gets serious.   
“Even if he doesn’t say it, he wants you to be there for him,” Louis continues. “He loves you. He trusts you. And if that means that you have to make an effort to be there for him, then you’ll do it if you love him.”  
Liam snorts, a grin spreading across his lips.   
“So we’re each other’s relationship counsellors now?” Liam teases.  
“Sure seems like it,” Louis responds. He touches Liam’s shoulder gently. “He’s sad,” he adds. “I can see it in his eyes.”  
“I know,” Liam whispers, looking down.   
“Just love him,” Louis says.   
“I know,” Liam repeats.   
…  
“Therapy,” Zayn says, slamming a notebook down on Liam’s kitchen table.   
It’s the same night, and Liam almost falls out of his chair. He must have forgotten to close the door, because he definitely didn’t let Zayn in.   
“What?” He asks, looking up at Zayn in shock.   
“Therapy,” Zayn repeats. “It’s where I went tonight. It’s where I’ve been going for three years now, off and on.”  
“For what?” Liam asks carefully.   
Zayn sucks in a deep breath, smiling at the ground despite himself. There’s nothing remotely funny about all of this, but it’s the only thing he can think of to do.   
“I’m depressed,” he admits quietly. “I’m so fucking depressed. It got worse after she left me, and I’ve been working harder. I got prescribed some medication a while ago, but I don’t like to take it.”  
“Zayn.” Liam sighs. He reaches for his hands. “You gotta take your meds, babe.”  
“I know,” Zayn whispers.   
“Come here.”  
Liam pulls him onto his lap, Zayn’s legs around his hips. Liam runs his fingers through his fringe, looking at him with soft eyes.   
“Why did you think you couldn’t tell me that?” He asks. “I’m here. I love you, remember?”  
“I remember,” Zayn replies quietly. “I love you, too.”  
“You can tell me anything,” Liam continues. “Anything.”  
“My sisters looked at me funny for a long time,” Zayn tells him, shifting so their foreheads are touching. “I guess part of me thought you’d do the same thing, that you’d look at me like they did.”  
Liam shakes his head. “Never.”  
Zayn closes his eyes, laughs wetly.   
“I’m a mess,” he says. “A big, fucking mess.”  
Liam settles his hands on his waist, holding him close.   
“That’s okay,” he murmurs. “I’ll still love you.”  
Zayn smiles sadly. “Amy was stupid to let you go.”  
“Maybe, but now I’ve got you.”  
“Cheesy.” Zayn laughs.   
“I’m going to get you a key,” Liam says suddenly. “So you don’t have to keep breaking in.”  
“Okay,” Zayn murmurs.   
He leans in for a kiss, and Liam settles his hand on his face.   
“How about we go to my room and have a cuddle?” Liam suggests. “I’ll put some music on, and we can just talk. Or be silent. Whichever you prefer.”  
Zayn’s smiling now. “Okay, but only if I can be little spoon.”  
“Deal.”  
…  
“SOS. Call me, Tommo.”  
“What the hell is going on, Niall?”  
“Just call me.”  
So Louis does. He dials Niall’s number and waits, sinking into the couch cushions, pressed against Harry’s side. He switches to speaker phone when Niall picks up, and the two of them wait for to hear Niall spew the emergency in their faces.   
“Ness broke up with me.”  
“Who the hell is Ness—oh, Vanessa.” Louis pauses for a second. “Already? What did you do?”  
“Louis,” Harry hisses, punching him in the thigh. It doesn’t hurt, but Louis frowns at him anyway.   
“Wait, am I on speaker? Louis,” Niall groans.  
“Why does everyone say my name like that?” Louis huffs.   
“Because you’re a pain in the ass,” Niall answers bluntly. “Now can we get back to me? I’m going through a crisis.”  
“How can it be a crisis? You’ve been dating her for three weeks, and all you’ve done is fuck,” Louis responds, shooting Harry a bewildered look.   
“That’s what Ness said,” Niall says. “She keeps complaining that we never do anything but I said we do plenty because we fuck all the time. Then she said that we need to see other people and hung up on me.”  
Louis sighs. “I told you, Niall, there’s more to a relationship than just fucking all the time. She’s your girlfriend, not your fuck buddy. Oh, excuse me, was your girlfriend.”  
Harry frowns. “Louis.”  
“This is why everyone says your name like that. You’re such an ass,” Niall mutters, but there’s fondness to it despite himself. “Besides, I didn’t think it was serious. It all felt very casual.”  
“Did she say that?” Harry asks.   
“Well, no—”  
Harry cuts him off. “See, I haven’t dated any women, but I know from experience with my sister that when girls want things to be casual, they do not act like Vanessa did with you at lunch.”  
Niall is quiet for a moment.   
“Relationships are confusing,” he declares.   
“Relationships are confusing for everyone. They’re just extra confusing because you’re a sociopath,” Louis states. “A non-crazy one, though, I remember.”  
“Honestly, Louis.” Harry sighs.   
“I think you’re supposed to be making me feel better, Lou,” Niall says dryly. “Or am I too much of a sociopath to understand that, too?”  
“Now you’ve done it,” Harry mutters.   
“I’m sorry.” Louis sighs. “It sucks, she broke up with you. What do you want me to do about that?”  
“I want you to tell me how to fix it,” Niall says.  
Louis clenches his eyes shut, and then he releases a long breath as they flutter open.   
“I’ll talk to her,” he says.   
“What?” Niall splutters, at the same time Harry does.   
“I’ll talk to her,” Louis repeats. “What’s her number?”  
“I—okay. Thank you.” Niall rattles off her number, and Louis enters it into the contact he has named “Niall’s weird ass girlfriend” for Vanessa.   
“Thanks,” Niall murmurs. “You know, for not being such a dick.”  
“I started off as one,” Louis reminds him.   
“I know, but you stopped,” Niall continues.   
“Shut up, Horan.” Louis cackles. “You’re incapable of getting sentimental, remember? Your sappiness isn’t fooling me.”  
“I take it back, you are a dick.” Niall laughs regardless, and Louis smirks to himself.   
“Is my expert relationship advice all you needed?” Niall asks.   
“You’re no expert.”  
“Hey, I’ll have you know that Liam and I provide each other with counselling services… for free. How cool is that?” Louis replies.   
“You have no degree, I’m pretty sure it’s not that cool.” He can almost sense Niall rolling his eyes.   
“Yeah, yeah.” Louis waves his hand. Harry just rolls his eyes.   
“I’m going to go now,” Niall says. “Tell me what Ness says?”  
“I will, I promise,” Louis says, softer than before. “Call me if you need anything, okay? H and I are here for you.”  
Maybe it’s because Louis’ never called him by that name before, or maybe it’s the intimacy of such a name that has Harry smiling dopily at him and shifting closer. He leans in for a kiss, and Louis hears Niall make a gagging noise over the phone.   
“Don’t fuck with me on the line,” he scolds, and then hangs up.   
Louis stares at his phone for a long moment, stunned, before he bursts out into giggles. Harry snorts and tosses the phone onto the table, and then he crawls on top of Louis, straddling his hips.  
“When are you gonna call Vanessa?” Harry asks as he threads his fingers through Louis’, who shrugs.   
“Later tonight, tomorrow if I forget. It’s not all that urgent, is it?” He asks.   
Harry purses his lips. “Don’t know. It’s hard to say with Niall. I don’t know if he wants to get back with her because he likes her or because her blowjobs are just that good.”  
“You give good blowjobs,” Louis murmurs, pulling Harry in for a kiss.   
“Do I now?” Harry hums, lips brushing against Louis’ as he speaks.   
“Yeah,” Louis whispers, cheeks heating up.   
“I could suck you off right now,” Harry says, reaching down to cup the bulge in Louis’ pants.   
He gasps. “Harry.”  
“Louis,” Harry mocks, smug look on his face.   
“You can’t do things like that,” Louis scolds him, voice breathy.   
“Watch me.”  
Harry pulls at the drawstring to Louis’ sweats and gets his pants down so his cock springs out.   
“No boxers, hmm?” He teases.   
“Shut up.”  
Harry chuckles, but the smug look is wiped off his face when Louis grabs his dick through his pants. He fixes Louis with a glare, and then he slides down and takes him into his mouth.   
Louis gasps, fingers twisting into Harry’s soft curls. Harry sucks him down until he’s almost gagging, and Louis has a moment of jealously when he thinks of how many other people Harry must have done this to for him to get so good.   
“I love you, Harry,” he says, just because he can, and because another part of him reminds Harry who he loves.   
Harry’s eyes flick up to his, and he pulls back to suckle at the tip, jerking him off.   
“Come for me,” he commands, massaging the tip of Louis’ cock with his thumb. “Come, baby.”  
Louis moans, his back arching off the couch. His lips are parted, jaw slack, and toes curl.   
“Harry.”  
“Come for me,” Harry says, and that’s it, Louis does, spurting down Harry’s throat with a broken cry.   
“Ah.”  
“Good boy,” Harry whispers, kissing the inside of his thighs. He sucks a love bite there, where only he can see.   
“Fucking hell, I told you that you’re good at blowjobs,” Louis whispers. “Come here, let me get you back.”  
Harry shakes his head, strokes his fingers over Louis’ thigh.   
“I’m good,” he replies. “Really.”  
Louis reaches for him, presses his palm against Harry’s cheek.   
“Alright, baby,” he says softly.   
Harry’s cheeks pink up.   
“Call Vanessa,” he says.   
Louis rolls his eyes.  
…  
“Hello?”  
“It’s Louis. This is Ness, right?” Louis curses under his breath. “Sorry, I meant to say Vanessa. Ness is what Niall calls you, it’s all stuck in my head.”  
She laughs. “It’s alright, Ness is fine. So is Nessa, or V. Whatever you want to call me, really. I have a wide spectrum of nicknames.”  
“Ah, cool.”   
There’s a long stretch of awkward silence, and Louis curses himself, closing his eyes. Vanessa yawns, and Louis pinches his thigh. He wishes Harry weren’t in the shower, because he could really use the support right about now.   
“Why are you calling me?” Vanessa asks. “Wait, don’t answer that. This is about Niall, isn’t it?”  
“Why would you say that?” Louis humphs, but he thinks the way his voice goes high gives him away.   
“Because I never gave you my number, and we’re not friends,” Vanessa answers. Louis pictures her raising her eyebrows, and he cringes. “That means Niall gave it to you,” she continues. “And it also means you want to talk about why I broke up with him.”  
Louis is stunned. “Have you ever thought of becoming a private investigator? Or maybe a homicide detective.”  
“I’ll consider.” Vanessa snorts. “I don’t want to get back with him, Louis. I can’t date someone like him. I thought I could fix him, but I can’t.”  
Louis’ forehead puckers with a frown. “You can’t fix someone if there isn’t anything wrong with them.”  
“I know,” she replies quietly. “It was a quick fling, a lot of sex. In the big picture it doesn’t mean anything, and we both know that. It was never going to mean anything, and we both know that, too.”  
“You dated him three weeks.” Louis is baffled. How can he do what he promised Niall when Vanessa is perfectly fine with moving on? The answer: he can’t.  
“Three weeks is enough for me to realize that having sex all the time is not the same as dating,” Vanessa says. “We barely held hands, barely kissed. Our dates always ended in sex. I might be nineteen, but I’m not stupid.”  
“Never said you were.” It’s silent for a second. “It’s really over, isn’t it?”   
“Afraid so,” Vanessa affirms. “It’s better this way, trust me.”  
“This all seemed too quick,” Louis admits.   
“Felt that way for me, too,” she tells him. “It’s hard to be with someone who doesn’t understand what it feels like to properly have a crush. He’s good at faking it. I don’t want a relationship to be based on acting.”  
“I get it.” The shower goes off, and Louis clears his throat. “Listen, I have to go. It was nice talking to you. I’m sorry that it didn’t work out.”  
“Me too,” Vanessa says quietly—sadly. “Tell Niall I said to take care, okay? And tell him I’m sorry.”  
“I will, but between you and me, you don’t have to be sorry. Take care of yourself first. It’s the only way to get by,” Louis says.   
“Thanks, but I already knows that.” He hears the smile in Vanessa’s voice. “Sometimes it’s just nice to hear things, even if the person saying them doesn’t mean it in the way they say it.”  
“You’re a character, Nessa,” Louis says, testing the nickname on his tongue. “I’d invite you to join our circle, but that might be a bit too awkward.”  
“Maybe at first,” she agrees. “I think I’ll decline for now.”   
“Alright.” There’s a knock at the door, and Harry slips into the room a second later. “Goodnight, Vanessa.”  
“Goodnight, Louis,” she says, and the line goes silent.   
“How’d it go?” Harry asks.   
He crawls into bed and curls up beside Louis, skin damp. Louis runs his fingers through his wet hair, pushing it back from his forehead. Harry lets out a content sigh.   
“They’re over for good, Vanesa made that clear,” Louis tells him.   
“Can’t say I’m surprised.”  
“I don’t think any of us are.”  
Harry pushes into Louis’ hand, and Louis stifles a yawn, his eyes fond.   
“Tired?” Harry asks.   
Louis nods. “Yeah.”  
Harry pulls the covers back, and then reaches to turn off the lamp. He rolls over so he’s facing Louis, opening his arms.   
“Come here,” he says.   
Louis pulls him close, Harry’s head tucked under his chin. He continues gently running his fingers through Harry’s hair, and Harry kisses him on the chest.   
“Goodnight.”  
“Goodnight, Harry,” Louis murmurs. “I love you.”  
“I love you, too,” Harry murmurs back. “It’s all gonna work out.”  
“Hope you’re right.”  
…  
Insistent knocking wakes the two of them up. It’s well past midnight, and they’ve got community service in the morning. Louis groans, slapping Harry’s shoulder in his sleepy hands.  
“Get the door,” he grumbles out.   
“Can’t you do it?” Harry pushes him back, huffing.   
Louis doesn’t reply, and the knocking doesn’t cease.   
“Harry! Louis!” Zayn calls, his voice echoing through the apartment, and Harry groans.   
“I’m going,” he says, voice thick with sleep.   
He wipes the sleep from his eyes as he stumbles tiredly down the hall. He hisses at the sudden burst of light when he turns the hall lamp on, and he screams, “Shut the hell up!” at the door when Zayn’s persistent knocking continues.   
He yanks it open, fixing Zayn with the meanest glare he can muster up at half past twelve, but it drops off his face when he takes in Zayn’s disheveled state.   
“What the hell happened?” He demands. “Get in here before you wake up the whole floor.”  
Zayn curls up on the couch just as Louis emerges from the bedroom, hair mussed from sleep and eyelids droopy.   
“What’s going on?” He asks.   
Zayn sniffles, keeping his gaze locked on the carpet, and Harry shrugs when Louis looks at him for answers.   
“Zayn?” Harry prompts, gentler this time. He takes a seat beside him, putting an arm around his shoulders. Louis sits on the other side of him, laying a hand on his thigh.   
“It’s nothing,” Zayn says, but the way he furiously wipes away hot tears says otherwise. “I’m just being stupid, is all. Can I stay here tonight? I promise to be quiet. I’ll even cook breakfast in the morning, I know this is unexpected.”  
“Zayn,” Harry says, bite to his tone to get his attention. “Stop talking. You don’t need to do any of that. You can stay.”  
“Yeah,” Louis affirms. “But you gotta tell us, what happened?”  
Zayn brings his knees to his chest and tucks his face in them, shaking his head.   
“I can’t do this,” he says into his knees.   
“Can’t do what?” Harry asks cautiously.   
“I’m depressed, to tell you the truth. I have been since I was thirteen,” Zayn confesses quietly, keeping his face pressed into his knees. “I told Liam that. He thinks I’m some broken thing now, I know it.”  
“Zayn.” Louis frowns. “I’m sure he doesn’t think that.”  
“He said that he’ll ‘fix me.’ I don’t need to be fixed, Louis, I don’t,” Zayn snaps. “I miss my ex-girlfriend. Ashley was the best. She understood me. She made me feel whole. I wish she didn’t leave.”  
Louis lays a comforting hand on his shoulder and squeezes.   
“Maybe dating Liam isn’t the best idea, bud,” he says softly.   
To his surprise, Zayn’s eyes fill with even more tears.   
“I know,” he whispers. “I love him, though. I’m in love with him. But I can’t love him the way I loved Ash.”  
“Do you ever think he feels the same way about you and Amy?” Harry asks.   
“Oh, I know he does,” Zayn replies. “But I don’t blame him. I get it. He loved her the way I loved Ash, and now we’re two heartbroken people trying to love each other. It’s hard. It doesn’t make a whole lot of sense sometimes. It hurts a lot.”  
“So you just left?” Louis asks.   
Zayn shrugs. “I didn’t know what else to do. I needed to be alone. He’s suffocating sometimes.”  
“Well, you’re welcome here anytime,” Harry says, and Louis’ tiny, sad small confirms it.   
“I think about killing myself a lot,” Zayn whispers. “But I could never do it. I’m too scared.”  
“God, Zayn.” He isn’t sure who says it, but suddenly he’s being sandwiched between two warm bodies, and it doesn’t matter so much anymore.   
“I love him,” Zayn confesses next. “I want to be with him. I just don’t know how.”  
“Take it day by day,” Harry responds, palm rubbing Zayn’s back. “It’s gonna be okay.”  
“Thanks for letting me stay tonight,” Zayn says, glancing back and forth between Harry and Louis. “I don’t know what I’d do without you guys sometimes.”  
Louis smiles and ruffles his hair. “Anytime.”  
“Night, Zayn.” Harry hugs him tight for a moment, and then he drapes the blanket from the back of the couch over him. “Have a good sleep.”  
“You too,” Zayn echoes.   
In the morning, he’s not in the apartment anymore, but there’s a note on the couch where his head used to be.   
Thanks again. For everything. I think I’ve figured it out.   
Louis holds the note to his chest and tries to not let his head run wild with theories.   
…  
“Met a new girl.”  
“Jesus Christ, Niall.”  
“Don’t hate the player, Louis, hate the game. You’re just jealous of my wicked skills.”  
“I am jealous of nothing.”  
“Liar. This one is cute. Her name is Riley. She’s Vanessa’s cousin. She’s twenty.”  
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”  
“Totally kidding. I’m dating no one. Vanessa does have a cousin named Riley, for the record, but I’ve never shagged her… yet.”  
“Good luck with that, Casanova.”  
“Thanks, Tommo.”  
“Niall?” Harry asks, sitting down beside him with his laptop, pointing to Louis' phone.   
Louis nods. “Yeah. He tried to trick me into thinking he’s dating a new girl. But not just any girl. This one is Vanessa’s cousin.”  
“He’s kidding right?” Harry blanches. “Please say he’s kidding.”  
“He’s kidding… I think.” Louis takes a peak at his laptop screen. “What’s that?”  
“This is the apartment I was talking about. We finish community service next weekend.” Harry pauses, his cheeks heating up. “I was thinking we could check the place out today.”  
Louis smiles, his heart beat rabbiting. “Okay.”  
“Okay?” Harry lets out a sigh of relief.   
“Yeah. Let’s do it.”  
“Okay,” Harry echoes, then once more, with certainty this time. “Okay.”


	5. Epilogue

The flat complex is in a more rural area of London, tucked in between a field and the edge of the city. It’s not too far from Harry’s old complex, but the distance from Louis’ is almost suffocating.  
Harry is asleep, face pressed against the window, and Louis’ heart is beating a mile a minute. He allows himself to think of Ethan, just for a moment. Their apartment together was had few uses: sex, getting high, getting drunk, and they only slept their together on the odd occasion.  
Harry’s hand tightens around his in his sleep, and Louis lets himself smile, allows himself to forget. Harry’s not Ethan. He’s proved that many times over without even realizing it.  
It’s the same way Zayn’s come to terms with Ashley, and Liam with Amy. Letting go is a process, one he’s glad he’s hand Harry there to experience with.  
Louis pulls into the lot sucks in a deep breath. He releases Harry’s hand to turn the car off, but he doesn’t wake him just yet. He stares out the window, at their new home, and he feels something like safety settle in the pit of his stomach.  
Somewhere during Louis’ sniffles and the loss of the car’s movement, Harry stirs, eyes opening serenely. He’s so soft at this time of the day, with the early afternoon sun warming his skin and the way he gets so cuddly. Louis smiles gently, eyes softening, and he reaches out to brush his curls away from his forehead.  
“Hey,” he whispers.  
“Hey yourself.” Harry’s smiling back at him, fond etched all over his face. Louis pulls him closer, bumping his nose against Harry’s.  
“You ready for this?” He asks.  
Harry shakes his head yes, leaning in to kiss him. Louis cups his cheeks, lips moving with his for a few moments until Harry pulls away.  
“Come on.” He motions to the complex. “I’ll grab the boxes if you get the bags.”  
They’ve been over to the place periodically since they signed the lease, slowly bringing their two apartments into one. Harry left behind every photo except one of himself and his niece and her daddy, the faintest trace of Gemma in the corner of the picture.  
Louis left behind everything that reminded him of Ethan, thrown in the trash next to all of Harry’s memories. It was something like a ritual, burning the photographs to ash. Afterwards, Louis spread Harry open and ate him out until he cried, kissed the tears from his skin until Ethan and Gemma were wiped away and all they could think of was each other.  
Louis the idea from Liam when he moved into Zayn’s apartment. He remembers the bruises on Zayn’s wrists, the love bites littering his skin, and he remembers what Liam said when he asked about it.  
“Sometimes he just needs to be fucked rough. I gave it to him good, Louis. We burned all our exes’ photos, threw all their stuff away and then I fucked him until he couldn’t remember anything but my name.”  
He remembers the way his pants tightened when he thought about doing that to Harry, but most of all, he remembers how good it felt to watch Ethan’s face burn with the man he loves beside him, watching his sister do the same thing.  
Harry sets the boxes down on the floor and straightens up, looking around the place. The walls are decorated with pictures of them, and the walls in their bedroom is lined with records. The stack of them by the player is all Mumford and Sons, and Harry smiles proudly whenever he hears Louis listening to them.  
Louis opens his arms and Harry goes to him willingly. He connects his fingers at the base of Louis’ back and breathes him in, face pressed into his neck.  
“I got a job,” Louis says, whispering the confession into Harry’s hair.  
“Seriously? That’s great,” Harry says when he feels Louis’ nod. “What are you doing?”  
“Teaching piano,” Louis answers, and Harry can hear the smile in his voice. “I’ve got two students; a little girl, Emily, and a teenage boy named James. I’ve do home lessons for now, but I’m looking to open a small music room where I’ll do lessons as well. I might even go to school, learn how to play the violin or something. I’ve always wanted to play that.”  
Harry smiles, kissing him on the underside of his jaw. “I’m so fucking proud of you,” he says. “So proud.”  
Louis blushes. “Thanks. What are you gonna do?”  
“I’m going back to school,” Harry tells him. “I signed up for teacher’s college, so I can become a French teacher. And I’m doing weekend classes in Italian. I’m determined to learn it.”  
“Look at us,” Louis murmurs fondly. “Look at us,” he repeats. “We’re turning our lives around. We should have gotten some champagne for the occasion.”  
Harry snorts. “Ti adoro. Ti voglio molto bene.”  
“What does that mean?” Louis asks.  
“I said, ‘I adore you. I love you very much’ in Italian,” Harry answers, raising his head to look him in the eye. “Because I’m going to get fluent, and because it’s true.”  
Louis blushes all over again. “How do you say ‘you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me’ in Italian?”  
Harry blushes redder than Louis. “I think it’s ‘è la cosa migliore che mi sia mai successa.’”  
“Yeah. That.”  
Harry bursts out laughing, tilting his head up for a kiss. He gestures around the room, looking into Louis’ eyes.  
“Welcome home, Louis,” he whispers.  
“Welcome home, Harry,” Louis whispers back.


End file.
